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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184484">The Inquistor's Daughter is Resilient</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricecake93/pseuds/Ricecake93'>Ricecake93</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood Trauma, Circle of Magi, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Half-Elves, Half-Human, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Modern Girl in Thedas, Ostwick Circle (Dragon Age), Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Racism, Reincarnation, Templars (Dragon Age), Transmigration, Uncle-Niece Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:27:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricecake93/pseuds/Ricecake93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilah Blakely Trevelyan is born half-human and half-elf. Unaware, she was once a human of our earth, who died and reincarnated in the world of Thedas. How will her new transmigration life begin? Especially when she's the daughter of Free Marcher, who could possibly become the Herald of Andraste in the future?</p><p>Pre-Inq. Slow burn.</p><p>Excerpt:</p><p>They all stared at me with horrified gawking expressions. Templar Uncle Donnic especially… he looked like he lost a loved one.</p><p>“…Lilah…” Papa called out to me, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t…</p><p>I swallowed, looking down on my hands, covered with frost.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Hope You Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>§</p><p>I remember scribbling drawings that made my grandparents wonder in awe of what it could be, telling them that I dreamt of buildings straight and tall—so tall that they were scraping the sky. That’s why they’re called <em>skyscrapers</em>. They adored me, but at the same time, they worried over me. It’s sometimes not good to dream strange things.</p><p>They also worried over my <em>ears</em>. They were <em>pointy</em> like an elf’s, but also too short for one. I already knew that my mother was a dancing Antivan elf and that my father was a Free Marcher, nobleman human. What I didn’t know was that I didn’t belong to both worlds. I was neither human nor was I an elf.</p><p>I was a <em>half</em>. I didn’t belong anywhere.</p><p>My grandparents, auntie Eve, and uncle Donnic would always tell me to cover my ears, either with the bonnet they bought, a pretty hat, or thick, ribbon bows on both sides. They also kept my hair long so that no one would know. My eyes were just slightly bigger and rounder than a human’s, and that made me popular in Nana’s parties. They told me I looked like a precious, porcelain doll, and that I would grow up to be a beautiful swan.</p><p>It boosted my confidence enough that when they asked me to sing for them a song, I did.</p><p><em>♪</em> <em>“Dancing bears… Painted wings… Things I almost remember… Things my heart used to know… Once upon a December…” </em><em>♫</em></p><p>Never did they expected me to sing so well. I finished the whole song that I somehow knew in my heart, even though no one in the party knew the song, not even the minstrel that my mother hired.</p><p>After that, Nana and Dada(grandad) threw a tutor at me to teach me a variety of subjects—mostly music, the tutor quickly quit in a week from teaching me. Let me get this straight, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was the <em>perfect</em> student, and apparently, that was the problem. I was too good. Every information he gave to me, I managed to absorb and comprehend to little difficulty. He called me a genius, and I was still only five years old.</p><p>Despite my pointy ears, they told me I was gifted. However, none of that made me happy.</p><p>One night, when Nana finished tucking me in, I decided to ask.</p><p>“…Nana?”</p><p>“Yes, Lilah darling?”</p><p>Pulling the covers over my mouth, I asked the muffled question, “…Will poppa ever come see?”</p><p>She heard me right as a frown graced her features. “Oh Lilah… I’m sorry he’s been absent, and we’ve been trying but… he’s going through a lot right now. Don’t be sad though, he loves you very much. He sends you gifts, and… He just needs more time…”</p><p>It scared me of what he could be going through, but it also made me feel bad that nothing I could do would be able to help him.</p><p>“…You know… you take after him.” She said, smiling gently. “When you get angry, your nose would crinkle and your lips would pout to the side.”</p><p>“Like this?” I acted out the features she described, and she laughed.</p><p>“Yes! Hahaha! Just like that!”</p><p>Nana had to be the closest of a mother that I’ll ever had, even though she would never be proud to see my ears.</p><p>The day when I turned six years old was the day I learned about the harsh reality towards elves. I remember playing tea party with the other girls, and then we were going to try and braid our hair without our mothers watching. It was fun at first making stylish hairdos on each other…</p><p>However, when it was my turn…</p><p>“…Ew! Why are your ears pointy?”</p><p>“Are you an <em>elf?</em>”</p><p>“Elves can’t be nobility!”</p><p>I learned at a very young age… that I had no place in the world.</p><p>The other mothers saw the commotion and they saw my ears. Nana pulled me away and scolded me for letting them touch my hair. I was shocked. I didn’t know how bad it was to have such pointy ears? But why? Why was that bad?</p><p>We had elves as servants. They were nice. I knew most of them by their names, and I knew they had families, like parents and siblings. I knew they had kids and grandkids… But I didn’t know how much their race was scorned.</p><p>However, rather than running and crying to my room, and shutting myself away from society… A fiery rage was boiling inside me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.</p><p>“So, what if I do have pointy ears?!” For once, I yelled at my grandmother, who became speechless, and so did the party guests, who stood there with their mouths gaping.</p><p>“I am proud of my heritage!! I am proud of being both human and elf!!” I yelled my heart out, making sure they all heard it. “And shame on you all that me being Half would make any less than that of a person!”</p><p>Nana paled, her clutching her heart. “…R-Lilah…”</p><p>Blinking the tears away from my eyes, I grit my teeth.</p><p>“I never knew my mother, but I love her anyway, and it was because of her that I’m alive!! And I love my father even if he’s never here!”  My whole body was shaking, trembling in both rage and a deep sadness that corroded my soul.</p><p>I sobbed and gasped as I looked right at her. “…And I’m <em>grateful</em> to you, Nana, for letting me live with you and Dada, but if you all can’t accept me for who I am, then I don’t have to be here!!”</p><p>With that I took off running, ignoring her calls. I ran and ran to the barn, but I didn’t stop there. I had thought about going to my special hiding spot, but what was the point? I wanted to run away.</p><p>Yes, I know. I was stupid, but I did it anyway.</p><p>Hurting and shaking, I grabbed a satchel and stuffed it with a clean blanket that was probably for Aunt Eve’s horse, Maple, and some apples before running out of there. I think some of the servants spotted me, and tried to stop me, but I bolted into a run through the forest.</p><p>Surprisingly, I lost them.</p><p>Unfortunately, I got lost.</p><p>For a moment, I was frightened that maybe a large furry animal—like a bear would try to eat me, but then I realized that bears only existed in the south, specifically Ferelden (though that is not a fact). So, nothing to be worried about!</p><p>Instead, that dark cloudy night, I ended up crossing paths with bandits.</p><p>It happened by chance as I kept marching in a straight direction trying to get away from the Trevelyan’s estate. Never did I think I would find highway-men bandits camping around a fire, having roasted boar. There were five of them in total.</p><p>“What in the Maker’s ass is a little girl like you doing here?” The man with scar across his face questioned me, crossed with suspicions but mostly surprised to see me.</p><p>At this moment, I started to question myself, because there was seriously something wrong with me if I wasn’t feeling an ounce of fear of the danger before me.</p><p>“Well, if you must know,” I started out snarky. “I ran away from home.”</p><p>A couple of them snorted. <em>Scar</em> raised a brow at me. “How old are ye?”</p><p>“I just turned six.” I kept answering, then I tucked my hair behind my ear. “My family committed a scandal by keeping me, a half, in their home, so I left.”</p><p>“You’re a half? Wait!” The guy with the buckteeth spoke. “Family? The only family near here are the Trevelyan’s!”</p><p>Oops.</p><p><em>Buck</em> grinned hideously at the opportunity. “You might actually fetch a fortune for us.”</p><p>All four of them were smiling like greedy hyenas.</p><p>“Well, you’re wrong!” I snapped at them, shaking. Enraged that they would trouble my family like this. Funny, because I still cared about this family. “Sell me off as ransom? Do you think they would do it now that the other nobles have heard that I’m a half? They’re humans. Nobles, and they care about their reputation! You’re wasting your time!”</p><p>Third guy with the crossbow questioned, “Ohh, and what about your parents?”</p><p>Turning away, I admitted. “…I don’t have any…”</p><p>My mother was gone, and my father left me, and I knew why. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why father left. For six-year-old me, this bothered me so much, because I understood. The consequences of having me and keeping me in a family of nobles would be too much of a risk. Hide your ears they say…Dock it like how the Orlesians dock all the ears of every elf important in History, making them all humans.</p><p>I was only half, and yet with my ears being pointy, I was already considered not human.</p><p>Then Buck grabbed my arm, pulling me and I struggled.</p><p>“Hey! Let go!” I protested, but they grabbed the satchel from me.</p><p>Now, I was starting to fear for my own life. I began kicking and screaming, also trying to bite my captors, but these are grown ass men, and I was only a little six-year-old girl.</p><p>Buck grunted with annoyance. “Stop struggling!”</p><p>A rough leather hand slapped me across the face, and the force of it sent me crashing to the ground. A fiery pain burned my face, and like the little girl I was, I started sobbing and crying aloud.</p><p>Buck grabbed only a fistful of my hair. “Shut--!”</p><p>He stopped and then he dropped me back to the ground. The other three stood up, alarmed as Buck fell backwards…</p><p>And I could see a knife sticking out from his left eye.</p><p>Lightning flashed and thundered roared so loudly that they didn’t react against the assailant in time. <em>He</em> came out from the shadows with a longer pair of sharpened daggers that reflected the fiery embers of the campfire. He went after Crossbow-guy first and with a swift swing, blood sprayed out like a fountain from the bandit’s neck. He staggered and fell right on top of campfire, smothering it before the droplets of rain could.</p><p>Now in bleak darkness, the assailant fought against Scar and the fourth. They both came at him, getting him from different directions, but he was experienced and trained. He knocked Scar back, making him stumble over the crates of goods they stole and he focused on fourth. The rain began to pour heavily now and that became a disadvantage for the fourth as he slipped from the slippery mud, falling forward. The assailant had his blade out for him to fall and die.</p><p>All this time, the assailant didn’t notice Scar creeping up behind him, and when he did, it was too late. Scar swung his mace and the assailant barely dodge. It scraped against his helmet, throwing it off his face as he stumbled to the ground.</p><p>At that moment, I saw his face and I knew…</p><p>Without any hesitation, I ran right for Scar, grabbing his armed limb and went for it, biting down at the exposed flesh with my sharp baby teeth.</p><p>“AAHH! You little--!!” Enraged he delivered a hit to my skull, but that wasn’t enough to deter me. I bit down harder, enough to pierce his skin, tasting the iron-taste of blood.</p><p>He then slammed me against a tree, the bark hitting the back of my skull, and I let go, falling to the mud.</p><p>Glancing up, I saw the mace coming down for me, but before he could, lightning flashed and <em>he</em> decked Scar across the face with a punch so powerful, the bandit spun to the ground. In the corner of my eye, I watched him going right up to scar, grabbing his skull, and kneed his face so hard that his nose broke, splattering blood all over. Scar gasped but he only continued again and again and again until he was making wine…</p><p>When Scar’s face was unrecognizable, my savior released him, letting him fall lifelessly on to the mud.</p><p>Then, he turned around, and rushed right over to me.</p><p>I saw his face…</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>.</p><p>The next thing I knew, I woke up in my bed with the morning rays of a warm sunshine blinding me for a moment. Groaning, I hadn’t noticed the warm hand holding mine so firmly. Looking to my left, I saw that it was Nana with tear-stained face.</p><p>Instantly, I felt so guilty. How could I have done this to her? What made me stupidly run away from home?</p><p>When I sat up, she stirred from her sleep and her eyes slowly opened, blinking several times before they widened in realization. She sat right up. Her hair was slightly a mess.</p><p>“Lilah! Oh, my darling Lilah! What were you thinking?!” Rightfully so, she was angry.</p><p>Guiltily, I lowered my head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I ran away! …and I’m sorry for getting angry at you, and--”</p><p>“No! NO.” She said more firmly, grasping my hand tightly as she looked straight at me. “<em>I’m</em> sorry… Lilah, sweetheart, I want to apologize for hurting you… and I want you to know that I <em>never</em> meant to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you from the cruelty of the world, and… I hadn’t realized that I, myself, was also responsible for it…”</p><p>My brows raised. “…Nana…”</p><p>“…By telling you to hide your ears, we made you think that we were ashamed of you—but we’re not! Lilah, I want you to know… you are a <em>gift, </em>and we all love you for who you are <em>and</em> what you are…” She said, tearing up, making me tear up, as she leaned in to place a kiss on my forehead. Then parting, she said, “…You’re <em>my </em>precious granddaughter, and I love you… and I am so proud of how you stood up for yourself yesterday. Your father was so proud of you.”</p><p>I beamed with a smile before I realized what she said. My eyes grew wide as I grasped her hand tightly, remembering the man from last night.</p><p>Before I knew it, I was racing down the stairs, still in my sleeping gown, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how unruly I looked with my curls all tangled and my face probably still bruised from the attack last night, but I didn’t want to miss him. I wanted to see him.</p><p>As soon as I got to the end of the stairs, he was there.</p><p>Near the foyer of entrance, talking to Dada and Aunt Eve, was a young man in his early twenties. The young lad in the family portraits of this estate looked exactly like this man, but just a bit older. Wiser. And hurting…carrying baggage like I was.</p><p>My eyes welled up when I saw his face, my lip quivering as I kept my mouth close, swallowing my tiny sobs.</p><p>He stood there, frozen, like he didn’t know what to do. Dada had to elbow him hard and gestured to me. Frightened and his face also painted with guilt, he took a few steps towards me.</p><p>However, he stopped five meters away from me and bent one knee to the ground.</p><p>Ah geez!</p><p>“…Lila—<em>oof!</em>”</p><p>I dashed and leaped right to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, embracing him tightly.</p><p>“<em>Papa!</em>”</p><p>I think I stunned him. He was stiff for a few moments as I started to cry. Then a second after I began bawling my eyes out, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me. He pulled me closer into his warm embrace and held me tightly. He wouldn’t let me go, and I wasn’t going to do the same either.</p><p>We stayed like that for a long time until I calmed down.</p><p>When we finally parted from the extremely, long over due hug, I threw my tiny fist and hit him right at the jaw.</p><p>He was stunned.</p><p>“Lilah!!” Nana, who happened to be standing next to Aunt Eve and Dad now, let out an admonished cry. Aunt Eve clamped her mouth tightly, holding in her laugh. Dada’s brows just raised in surprised.</p><p>My father, more shocked than he was hurt, looked right at me with a confused expression.</p><p>“…What took you so long?!” I cried in anger. My vision became blurry when the tears kept coming. “Why didn’t you come sooner?!”</p><p>His mouth still hung, gaping, as I continued. “I know why you left me! Why you would never show your face to me! It’s because I killed mom, didn’t I?”</p><p>Aunt Eve, no longer laughing, took a step forward. “Lilah, that’s not true--!”</p><p>Shaking my head, I screamed. “Yes, it is!! If I wasn’t born, mom would still be alive! I know you sugarcoat the truth, but the fact is that I’m here, and she’s not, and it’s because of me!”</p><p>Facing my father properly, I took a breath, and bravely faced the truth. “It’s okay! I’m a girl! I can take it!” I told him. I needed to hear the truth. “Did you hate me? Were you angry? Was I stupid mistake--?!”</p><p>“<em>LILAH!</em>” He shouted.</p><p>Finally, he moved, grabbing my shoulders as he looked right at me and said to me. “…You…were <em>never</em>…a mistake.”</p><p>I held my sobs. “…Liar…Liar!”</p><p>“I love you, Lilah, and I’ve always come to visit you,” He began to say. “I was there on your birthday every year since you were born. I was there when your tutor left realizing he couldn’t teach a genius like you. And I was there when you sang songs at Mother’s tea parties. What a beautiful voice…”</p><p>My eyes widened and I covered my gaping mouth with my hands. What he was saying didn’t make sense, and yet, I could tell he wasn’t lying.</p><p>He reached out, hesitantly at first, before he carefully cupped my cheek and with his thumb, he wiped the tear off from my cheek.</p><p>“…And the mistake was mine…For being weak.” He said. “…You look… so much like her, and Maker… You have her <em>spirit</em>. A spark that incites the unwavering storm.”</p><p>I sniffled. “Really…? Nana said I take after you.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Well, <em>Nana</em> was never yelled at by you until yesterday.”</p><p>Admonished, I sheepishly grin.</p><p>Seeing my smile, he grinned wider. “You were a spitfire, just like your mother. Resilient… a burning candle against a terrible blizzard… Lilah. It used to hurt me to see you. That’s why it’s my mistake. I was because I was weak… And because of my weakness, I nearly lost you last night.”</p><p>“Oh… Well… I’m still here.” I said.</p><p>He smiled a gentle smile. “Yes… Yes, you are.”</p><p>“…Well, papa…” I took a step back from him, dropping my smile and crossing my arms. “You’re going to have to prove that you <em>were</em> there throughout my life, and no, Nana, Dada, and Aunt Eve <em>can’t</em> testify for you.”</p><p>His face fell for a moment, but I didn’t care. Six years was a long time of not talking to your daughter. Quite sinful actually, making me think he abandoned me when all this time he was in the background. I don’t think ‘all the time’, but he claimed to be there at my important events, so he was going to prove that he was there.</p><p>“…Dancing bears… painted wings… things I almost remember.”</p><p>I whirled at him as he started to sing. The tune was just right, and it was obvious now who I got my musical talent from.</p><p>He smiled. “Things my heart used to know… once upon a December—<em>oof!</em>”</p><p>I leaped and hugged him again happily.</p><p>§</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. We Are Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My father is a reserved man. Kind of awkward in sociable interactions, quiet as well, but I could tell he was enjoying my company. He didn’t say a lot of things, but I knew he was listening and paying attention. He would tilt his head to the side when I said something odd or interesting, or he would furrow his brows at something that was confusing or complexed. Or, he would make a face if I made a poor pun joke that fathers should usually make.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hey, papa!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“What do you get when you throw <em>butter</em> out the window?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>His brows furrowed at my confusing question. “…I… I’m not sure.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“<em>Butter-</em>fly!” I shouted with glee, and his face was crossed between laughter and annoyance.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…You are worse than your grandfather.” He said, and I laughed gleefully.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Despite my sixth birthday being both the most horrible and happiest day of my life, there was something special about my birthday that made me want to celebrate my seventh even more. </span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Papa and I share the same birthday, which was why he got here yesterday. Our birthdays were tomorrow. </span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Nana was insistent on throwing me a party, but I reminded her that none of the noble girls would want to hang out with me again, after learning I was half-elven. Instead, I wanted just our family to have a party and celebrate papa’s birthday as well.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>As I planned over the last several weeks what sort of birthday gift to give him, I realized it had to be something that would be useful for his work. And what was his work exactly? After he showed me how he fought that night, I had a pretty good idea of what sort of profession he’s in. I also had to take note of how he would be gone for long weeks, barely being able to visit every month or so, and coming back with a couple of new faded scars.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>However, I had to be very sure. So, a month ago, when Uncle Donnic came to visit after taking leave from the Ostwick Tower, I went and asked him this.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“<em>Hey Uncle? Why does papa work as an assassin?</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He rolled his eyes and said, “<em>Ohh I don’t know. Ask your--!! Wait! You knew?! Who told you?!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I rolled my eyes back. “<em>I may be little, but I’m not dumb… besides your response just solidified my theory.</em>” I said, smiling mischievously as his jaw dropped even lower at my audacious plan.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Still, I got him to calm down as I asked my most important question: what kind of gift would you give to an assassin?</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He said 'knives, daggers, poison' and I made a face at him. His suggestions sounded too typical. Maybe I should get my father something else? Maybe something not related to his profession?</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I asked around. Dada suggested wine, Nana suggested gloves—which is not a bad idea, but something to think about. Aunt Eve said to just paint him a drawing so he could carry it around. No. I’ve already noticed some of my drawings were missing, so I knew my father took them and kept them somewhere else, probably to use it against me when I’m older.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then, I had a dream of something that would be a good gift to my father that I immediately ran off at six am in the morning to our local smith’s home, showing him a crude drawing of what I wanted him to make. I was extremely insistent on it and promised to pay him handsomely as he sat down groggily, listening to my invention idea when uncle Donnic walked in and dragged me away. I was grounded for a few days, but the visit was worth it!</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“You’ve gone quiet.” My father pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned widely. “I’m just thinking of tomorrow! I have the best gift for you!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That made him smile. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble to get me anything.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“It’s okay. I was only grounded for three days, and Uncle Donnic’s purse was the one troubled, so it’s fine!” I said happily and he chortled.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“You were grounded? If <em>Uncle Donnic’s</em> purse was troubled, then it must have been a fortune.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“For a templar, I guess, but he didn’t know what to get you, so we decided to share the gift,” I told him, quite off-putting, but I did need cash and Uncle Donnic had the coin.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Father only laughed more.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The next day came with a horrible downpour of unexpected rain. I’ll be honest. I hated the rain. Don’t get me wrong, I like looking at it. It’s quite calming, but I didn’t like getting wet. We had to take the party inside the mess hall.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That’s okay! The games that I came up with would still work indoors!</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>After we had our dinner, we gathered in the family lounge room to play the games. They were all very complacent and compliant with my demands because, duh, it’s my birthday; however, I did intend for them to enjoy it, so long as they play seriously.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“This is a game called, <em>Never had I ever!</em>” I said. “We each hold up five of our fingers, and each player takes a turn on saying something that they had never done, like for example, eating apple pie. If you had apple pie before, then you need to put one finger down. If all five of your fingers are down, you’re out!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Huh… that’s an easy game.” Uncle Donnic said.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m curious where you learn such games, but I would like to play,” Nana said.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Okay! I start!” I said, grinning mischievously. “Never had I ever… drank <em>alcohol</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>At that instant, they all gaped at me. Then they looked at each other, before putting one finger down from their hands. I grinned even wider at my victory.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh! One more thing: if <em>everyone</em> other than the player, puts their finger down, that means that player can go again.” I said in a sing-song voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, you are going down, <em>niece!</em>” Aunt Eve snapped a bit. She can get quite competitive.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I managed to put their fingers down two more times, so everyone only had two or three chances left to stay in the game, before papa was next to say Never had I ever. At the end of the round, I won of course. Then I made up a rule that you can’t use the same Never had I ever, so the next round was more equalized, and Aunt Eve won.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>We went on for two more rounds before we decided to play a game called Mafia. That one was a more complex game, but thanks to me playing as God, they were extremely engaged. Father and Aunt Eve argued over which one of them was the murderer. At the end of the round, the murderer won, who was Dada. They demanded another round, and the murderer won again, which was Nana this time. The third and final round, they finally won and papa died so quickly in the first day-sequence.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The last and final game was <em>statue</em>. This one I had to grab a marble, a quill, my wooden duck, and a teacup. I started to arrange it to form some sort of statue before I pulled away and said. “Guess who it is!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>They all looked at me like I was mad.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Is it supposed to be one of us here?” Donnic asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes. Guess!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Is it Nana?” Eve asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned. “Nooo…”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It was several minutes after they guessed it right, and I did it again because they still haven’t caught on.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Uncle Donnic had his arms crossed, leaning against the chair, chin raised as he asked. “Is it…Max?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I shook my head. “Nope. Not papa.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Is it…<em>Dada?</em>” <em>Max</em> asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I smiled. “Yes! …Papa, do you get the game?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He was now smiling. “I think I do…”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He then rearranged the items to no such pattern, and then he leaned back and crossed his arms and raised his chin up. “So? Who is this?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hahaha! That’s Uncle Donnic!” I said and he laughed, confirming that he knew how to play the Statue game. The rest of the family looked all the more confused and frustrated, missing out on the joke. We did this several more times until we decided to end it since none of them were getting it. And that was fine. They’ll figure it out later.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>( If you don’t know this game. Tough. :P ) </span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then we did a skit, of which I didn’t tell Aunt Eve, Uncle Donnic, or Papa about it, but they were all going to be in it. They looked at me gaping, but I could tell Nana and Dada were trying not to laugh. I gave them each of their scripts and placed cut-out papers shape as pig ears, and used twine to tie it around their heads. I made myself bigger pointy ears suggesting I was a wolf.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Yes. This was a skit of three little pigs and the big bad wolf.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Hilarity ensued as Uncle Donnic acted out his part for building a house of straws, Papa awkwardly pretended to make his house out of sticks, and Aunt Eve <em>proudly</em> made her house out of bricks. I, of course, huffed and puffed to my heart’s content. The silliness of this skit made Nana and Dada almost die from laughter as they tried to get a hold of themselves, watching their grown-up kids acting seriously in a child’s play, embarrassing themselves.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>However, I appreciated it wholesomely because they were willing to embarrass themselves for me.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Finally, it was getting close to my bedtime, and we decided to open our birthday presents. There were other presents from the other noble families, but I cared not for it. I told Nana I would open them tomorrow. For now, I wanted to open their gifts.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I did mine first. Nana and Dada got me a pretty cute dress. Aunt Eve had gotten me a horse-riding gear, clothes and gloves and everything I would need to start. Uncle Donnic had gotten me a hairpin. And lastly, Papa got me a bracelet.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>An elven bracelet.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I blinked at this as I took it. It looked worn but still in good condition. “…Is this…?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He smiled warmly, nodding. “…Maybe when you’re a little older it would fit your wrist, but… I’ve always wanted to give this to you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It was a Dalish bracelet, no doubt. The small hallah wooden charm and the shape of the moon and stars gave it away. My eyes watered up a bit before I took off and ran back with his present.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Open it!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He blinked. Then he took the box, pulled the ribbon, and lifted the lid.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Carefully, he took out the fingerless, black gloves.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh! You got him gloves the I suggested,” Nana said.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Close, but it’s something else,” Donnic said, smiling warmly. “Something that only our genius little niece can think of. Bosco, our local dwarven smith, was extremely pleased with how innovative her idea was.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned happily at that as father began to examine the fine black leather gloves and noticed how the knuckles were bulky and extremely reinforced with something. “It’s fingerless gloves, but it came with reinforced knuckles. So, when you have to punch, it’s going to hurt the baddies <em>badly</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He whirled at me then threw an accusing glare at Donnic. “…She knows?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Donnic held his hands up. “Hey, I didn’t tell her! She already knew!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“He’s right, daddy. Remember, I’m a genius,” I said, not much a fan of modesty. “…I’ve known for a while, and your work sounds dangerous, so… I wanted to give you something that might help. Hopefully, and that… I hope you’ll keep visiting…because I’m scared that one day, you won’t…come back anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I think my words hit him home. His job as an assassin was a dangerous and hazardous occupation. He could die any time, and I would be waiting for him to come home, but one day he might stop walking through that door.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m… I’m scared… for that day to come.” I admitted.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He listened. I know he was listening and he really understood my words. I think we both know that one day he’ll be killed because of his profession. It’s something that is going to happen, but when? We won’t know. It was a reality check that we both needed once in a while. A reminder of how fragile we really are.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>His arm reached out and pulled me into his embrace, and I hugged him back.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I nuzzled under his warm neck and said, “I love you, papa.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He kissed my forehead sweetly.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“You’re messing with me!” My new crone tutor accused me. “I know you’re <em>messing</em> with me! Thirteen times seven doesn’t equal <em>twenty-eight!”</em></span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Pouting innocently, I showed her the chalk and board again. “Certainly? Here, why don’t I prove it to you? Through addition this time… See… Let me write down seven 13’s... Okay! So, 3, 6, 9--”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Wait! I shall do the adding.” She insisted as she counted. “3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21--”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then I cut in, counting the seven 1’s. “22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, and 28! <em>There!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The tutor pulled away, flabbergasted at the number that couldn’t be right. And she’s right, it was completely off the mark, but seriously, this tutor was mooching off more money than she was worth. Her recount of history was good, but her math was deplorable.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <em>
    <span>Knock, knock.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I turned to the door and was extremely elated.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Papa!”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I ran right to his arms and he caught me, picking me up and holding me close. This was a surprise for me. It had only been two weeks since I last saw him, which was our birthdays being celebrated. Usually, I wouldn’t be able to see him for another month.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Nana stepped aside, smiling at us before going to the tutor. “Miss Crowley, there has been some change of plans. I’ll be dismissing you for today,” she said as she led her out of the room and down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“O-Oh? Was there a family emergency?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, nothing of the sort, though I will be dismissing you from now on,” Nana said as they disappeared around the corner.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I laughed giddily, hugging my father closely. “What are you doing here, papa?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“There were…some change of plans…” He said as he walked into the room with me, looking around at my learning room. He then glanced at the chalkboard before giving me a face. “…You’re full of surprises.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m a bundle of surprises,” I admitted. “I’m also pretty cute.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He laughed at my charm. “And certainly, quite modest. Bold in temper.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I frowned. “Wasn’t it <em>Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed?</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He winced. “Now… see, I don’t think that describes you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I clicked my tongue annoyed and he laughed even more.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He set me down on the couch and took a seat next to me. We were quiet for a while as he kept looking around, before reaching out to grab the small kid-version lute that Dada got for me.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Is this yours?” He asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m learning. Still haven’t practiced too much since I got that tutor.” I said then changed the topic. “Hey, papa…?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“What are you doing home so early? I mean, I am <em>extremely</em> happy that you are, but it’s strange that it’s early.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…I… decided to change my profession,” he said. “…I’m not taking away your Aunt Eve’s position of being Lady of the House in the future, but I do want to support her… and I wanted to play my other job much more seriously.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I blinked. “Your other job?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Being a father.” He said.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My heart swelled at that. “…Just so you know… you’re doing a pretty good job of it, so far.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He chuckled as he wrapped an around me and I moved in closer, lying down against him. “…I’m glad,” he said. “…Hey Lilah?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…What do you call a nug in a gold mine?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I raised my head, giving him a look. “…What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then he smartly smirked. “…a golden <em>nug</em>get.”</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I made a cringed face before we both ended up laughing at ourselves.</span>
</p>
<p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hell is for Children</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>§</p><p>My father was now a stay-at-home working dad, plus also my tutor. Music had to be the best subject he could teach as he showed me how to use the lute and taught me the songs to play. He was also well-verse with the violin to my surprise. The violin suited him magnificently.</p><p>I would play my own mix as I remember the songs that I sang when I was little.</p><p>♫ “Twenty-five years, and my life is still trying to get up that great big hill of hope… for a destination…” ♪</p><p>Papa listened, his eyes focusing on the strings that I was playing as I coordinated with what chords to use. He did that while holding his own lute, his fingers changing on the chords, copying my movements, but he wasn’t strumming the strings. He was intent on listening, learning the piece.</p><p>♪ “I realized quickly when I knew I should that the world was made up of this brotherhood of men… for whatever that means.” ♫ I shrugged my shoulders at the end, and he cracked a smile.</p><p>♫ “And so I cry sometimes when I’m lying in bed just to get it all out what’s in my head and I… I am feeling a little <em>peculiar…</em>” ♫</p><p>I heard the door slowly open behind me, but I continued playing because papa wasn’t reacting to the visitor so it could be Nana or Aunt Eve.</p><p>I kept playing and singing, ♪ “And so I wake in the morning and I step outside and I take a deep breath, and I get real high And I scream from the top of my lungs, what’s going on?” ♫</p><p>♫ “And I say, hey yeah-yeah, hey yeah-yeah… I said hey! What’s going on?” ♪</p><p>I repeated the chorus a second time, trying to go into that interlude of music, but then stumbled over my chords. I tried to recover from it, but I couldn’t remember how it went. Frustrated, I stopped, sighing heavily.</p><p>“Geez! I can’t believe I don’t remember how it went!” I said, stomping my foot a bit.</p><p>“We’ll work on it,” Papa said. “If you hum it, maybe we can make up the accompaniment?”</p><p>“Maybe… It goes like…! ...!” When I turned, I realized we had more visitors than just Nana. They were quietly standing there, smiling, and I felt embarrassed when I showed off such a bratty gait.</p><p>“Oh no, don’t stop on our account,” the visitor said. He was wearing a dark green coat, and he had a curly mustache-beard that reminded me of Captain Hook, but shorter; he looked more <em>Jewish,</em> whatever that meant.</p><p>I carefully placed my lute down and went to introduce myself, curtsying properly.</p><p>“Pleased to meet you. I’m Lilah Blakely Trevelyan. How do you do?”</p><p>Nana proudly clapped her hands as father set the lute down and stood up, approaching the visitor.</p><p>“Ohh, I’m charmed. Bann Morgan, I own the majority of ship rights in the Ostwick harbor,” He introduced himself, treating me seriously.</p><p>I recalled from Aunt Eve’s conversations about the nobility of Ostwick. The House of Maldwynne is the ruling Teyrn of Ostwick, and below them are the five great houses that formed the foundation of Ostwick’s independence.</p><ol>
<li>There’s the House Vaughn, bearing the crest of a charging stag, they’re known to be military commanders and soldiers. A number of them make up most of the Hussars and the City Guard.</li>
<li>House Reese carries the crest of a guarding lion, and they’re known to have close ties to Empress Celene. They’re quite reputable for bringing fashion, jewelry, perfume, and other luxury goods to Ostwick.</li>
<li>House Bowen is mostly tailored to the Chantry. “In the Maker, We Trust” is their formidable motto, and their catch-phrase to lure in more of the believers. They also make up most of the templars in the Ostwick circle. The Patriarch of Ostwick Chantry is Bann Edmund Bowen.</li>
<li>The Trevelyan House, of course, is led by Dada, Bann Trevelyan. The most scandalous and prolific of the houses, claiming blood from Tevinter to Orlais… Most recently, Antiva and Dalish, aka me. Other than owning plenty of farmlands, they also have a lot of political power in Ostwick. Despite our motto, we all had the Trevelyan temper. Only Nana, Lady Esme Trevelyan, keeps us all under control.</li>
<li>Lastly, House Morgan. I was right about him being a pirate---well, a descendant to one. They’re mostly just pirates and smugglers, but the head family is a classier pirate if there’s such a thing.</li>
</ol><p>“We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office,” I said aloud, causing everyone to gap at me.</p><p>“<em>Lilah!</em>” Nana scolded me.</p><p>This caused Bann Morgan to burst into laughter. “Hahahaha! Now, where did you hear that?”</p><p> I tilted my head. “Was I off the mark?”</p><p>“No…you were very on point, dear,” Father affirmed, and that only caused Nana to glare at him, but Bann Morgan to laugh.</p><p>To my chagrin, Bann Morgan pulled my father away for a private conversation. It has only been a month since my father quit his previous profession, and yet, his old business partners were coming to see him. <em>Geez</em>. Didn’t they know he’s retired? Mostly, I was sour that they were taking away his time from me.</p><p>Whatever they talked about behind closed doors, my father seemed to agree in meeting the Morgan’s at a party three days from now.</p><p>Needless to say, I was not happy.</p><p>-</p><p>The day came when we arrived at Morgan’s household. There were thick ribbons at each side of my head that I pulled off as soon as we got off the wagon. Papa glanced down at me curiously.</p><p>“…Nana had asked you to wear those.”</p><p>“Yes, well… I wore them only for a little while.”</p><p>He fell quiet. I supposed he wasn’t sure how to deal with me being a bit rebellious, but I continued speaking, “I’m not ashamed of who I am, papa… so I’m gonna show my ears off, and if they have a problem, I can stand my ground.”</p><p>He kept quiet before finally complying, “Alright… I trust you know what you’re doing… but if you need help.”</p><p>“If I need help against people bigger than me, I will definitely call you, Papa. Little brats? I can handle them.”</p><p>He let out a worried sigh, but said nothing else as we walked into the large estate. We attracted attention almost immediately—well, I gathered their stares. Most of them knew me, and they all know the rumor. The Trevelyans were harboring a half-elf in their family, and raised her as nobility.</p><p>Bann Morgan then approached us. “It is good to see you both come, Lord Trevelyan.”</p><p>“Max.” Papa corrected him. “We can stay at first-name basis, Brynn.”</p><p>“Ha! I suppose we can. Who would have thought you’d have a kid first before Lady Eve? And at a very young age! Not that it’s a bad thing. I think you Trevelyans are quite famous for that.”</p><p>Father let out a disgruntled sigh, either upset at the family scandal, or disappointed in himself for proving the rumor true.</p><p>While they were chatting, a young boy came up from behind Bann Morgan, hiding. He was probably younger as he was a few inches shorter than me.</p><p>I held my hand out for him to shake. “Lilah Trevelyan! Pleased to meet you!”</p><p>The boy blinked as he hesitantly came out from hiding and reached out to shake mine tentatively. “K-Kyle Morgan…”</p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p>“F-five years old… Why are your ears pointy?”</p><p>I glared at him, tightening my hold on his hand. “Is that a problem?”</p><p>“N-no!!” He squeaked. His face paled and he tried to pull his hand away. I held it a good few seconds before letting him go and he stumbled just a little bit, before quickly hiding behind his father’s legs again.</p><p>Then, I realized the adults stopped talking and I glanced up at them, seeing their gazes on me. I then threw them an innocent smile. “What? I’m only saying hi.”</p><p>Papa gave me a look, and Bann Morgan smiled half-sheepishly. “Well… you’re tough, Lady Lilah.”</p><p>“<em>Resilient</em>.” I corrected him and my father smiled at that.</p><p>Soon, papa and Morgan walked away to talk more privately, leaving me alone with the Captain’s brat---well, I’ll be honest. He’s a really cute brat, especially at how frightened he is.</p><p>I reached out and pinched his cheeks. Startled, he whacked my hands and pulled away, putting his arms up defensively. “W-what are you doing??”</p><p>“Pinching. You’re so cute when you’re so red.” I teased, and he turned redder.</p><p>Before he could argue, I asked, “Do you mind showing me around? It’s my first time here. Please?”</p><p>Kyle seemed troubled but he reluctantly agreed and showed me over to the small garden outside. That was where all the other kids were playing. Or socializing. The children of nobles are odd. They should just play as kids should, but they’re scolded not to get any of their clean clothes dirty.</p><p>It’s why they spend more time throwing tasteless insults at each other.</p><p>“Ew. It’s the elf in human’s clothing.”</p><p>Okay… that wasn’t tasteless. That was a rather clever line.</p><p>Turning around, I met Francine Bowen.</p><p>“…I bet you learned that from your mom,” I quipped. “She’s exactly the gossiping moniker that her reputation excels her to be.”</p><p>Kyle cowardly stepped back from the older girls that were now approaching me with unexplainable, discriminating hate. A learned trait from their prejudice parents against elves.</p><p>“Watch your mouth!” One of her other goons, the girl with the yellow bow, snapped. “You’re just an elf!”</p><p>“Half. Do you know? Fifty percent human and fifty percent <em>Dalish</em>?” I revealed to them. “Though I suppose math must be terribly quite a challenge for you, plebeians.”</p><p>They stared at me, stump, with confused faces. One not very smart red-haired girl said. “You talk weird.”</p><p>Well, shit. I was arguing with children. What am I doing? This isn’t some otome game—whatever that is. Take deep breaths.</p><p>“L-let’s go.” Kyle tried to break up this uncomfortable situation as he grabbed my hand and tried to pull me away.</p><p>However, Francine walked right over to me and actually slapped me across the face.</p><p>I was shocked.</p><p>Then she gave out a smug, satisfied grin. “See that girls? That’s how you handle an elf.”</p><p>Kyle started trembling in fear as he moved away. He seemed to know that <em>I</em>, myself, would bring a reckoning upon these girls. And he wasn’t wrong. I was going to make them hurt.</p><p>As they all giggled and cheered for Francine, I took a deep breath in, and closed my fist…</p><p>-</p><p>Later on, I sat on the bed across from father’s judging stare. I was in a boatload of trouble when I broke Francine’s nose, gave a black eye to Yellow bow, and backhanded Red’s face. Quite frankly, I didn’t stop there. I proceeded to beat up the rest of them out of vengeance as Kyle dropped to the floor and peed himself. Poor Kyle…</p><p>My father had to step in to stop the fight and put me on timeout while he went to go talk to the parents of the other girls I assaulted.</p><p>Bann Morgan had approached and shook his head of me, saying, ‘<em>You’re fierce, little one. But you need to learn when you actually need to use your claws, or your quip tongue.’</em></p><p>After he said that, father returned and took my hand. We left the House and returned to the Inn that we were staying for the night. He hadn’t said a word to me and I was too scared to say anything, knowing he must be extremely disappointed in me.</p><p>“…I didn’t start it.” I spoke.</p><p>He kept staring.</p><p>“…I just finished it.”</p><p>“…Did that make you happy?” He finally spoke, asking.</p><p>Mulling over his question, I sighed. “…It felt good but no… it didn’t make me happy… I’m still rather angry.”</p><p>“You went overboard.”</p><p>“Francine slapped me! I didn’t do anything!”</p><p>“You didn’t, but I’m sure you’ve said something else,” He said and then he leaned in closer. “…Lilah, I thought you were smart.”</p><p>“I was defending myself!”</p><p>“Lilah.” He tried again. “Lilah, at such a very young age, you already know the unfairness and injustice against elves... I know <em>you</em> know… You need to be a little more clever, and less violent.”</p><p>“That’s… that’s not fair.”</p><p>“Life isn’t fair… this world never guarantees equality.” He told me. “…We can’t stop the things that will happen to us… but we can choose how we respond to it.”</p><p>“…That’s… that’s a fair point…” I caved in. What if I did handle the situation a little differently? “…Maybe I was too defensive.”</p><p>He smiled a bit. “I can’t blame you… you didn’t have a good sixth birthday because of how they reacted. Now you think the world is out to get you because of your ears.”</p><p>I pouted. “You wouldn’t understand!”</p><p>“No… No, I wouldn’t… but not <em>everyone</em> is out to get you.”</p><p>“…Another fair point.” I reluctantly agreed and then sighed, knowing I couldn’t win this fight. I mean, I had beaten up a bunch of children, even though I’m a child myself. “…You’re right. I’m sorry… I need to send letters of apologies to the families and the little girls I beat up.”</p><p>Then Papa smiled. “Now that’s the clever Lilah I know…”</p><p>I know now what I needed to do. I have to play the game. “…Papa, can we stay another day here in Ostwick? I need to do some shopping.”</p><p>He smiled and nodded.</p><p>§</p><p>The next day, we got up early in the morning and started shopping around the Ostwick district. We went to the book store to get some writing supplies for me and some paint, before going to the fabric store. My father was curious enough to ask what were my plans, and I answered that I was not only going to write apology letters, but I also planned on making consolation gifts. For me being a genius, I wasn’t too arrogant enough to realize that I have done something wrong. If I did, then I must do my best to apologize right, even if I wouldn’t be forgiven.</p><p>Still, I thought long and hard of my apology, because I also wanted them to understand that it hurt being discriminated. That reminds me that I should also write to the parents, right?</p><p>As we continued our shopping, a bunch of elven children ran pass us, bumping against us, then immediately Papa reached out, grabbing one of them.</p><p>“AH!” The young boy screamed, getting attention from the public, and I was frightened at that moment. What was my dad doing?</p><p>Max only glared at that struggling child, holding his wrist firmly. “Let it go.”</p><p>That’s when I noticed the little boy was holding my red purse.</p><p>“...Yes. Would you kindly give it back?” I asked then I tucked my hair to the side, showing off my ear. “Elf to elf?”</p><p>His eyes widened when he saw my ears. I held my hand out and after a few seconds, he dropped my red purse into my hand. Papa let him go, but then I grabbed his sleeve, stopping him from running.</p><p>“Are you hungry?” I asked.</p><p>The kid with eyes panicking stuttered. “W-What?”</p><p>“I asked if you were hungry,” I repeated, then I glanced around and saw a stall selling some skewers of meat. “There! Would you like some? Let’s buy a bunch and bring some to your friends?”</p><p>Before the child could refuse, I pulled him along with me over to the stall. Papa curiously followed, not intervening at all as he let me do whatever I wanted. He didn’t even refuse when I asked the vendor for a large purchase of skewers that he could provide with one sovereign. It would take an hour, but that was fine.</p><p>For now, we ate a couple of skewers together.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Lilah. What’s your name?” I asked.</p><p>His face flushed. “V-Valin.”</p><p>“I’m seven years old. How old are you?”</p><p>“E-eight.”</p><p>“Eight? Guess I’m just a little taller huh?” I asked grinning, and he flushed even more.</p><p>We continued to talk—well, I talked naturally and easily passing the time between us as I told him a little bit of my life in a noble’s home, and how my father saved me from bandits, successfully showing off how cool my papa <em>is</em>, though right now, he too was embarrassed.</p><p>After the bundle of skewers was ready, we picked it up and we walked Valin back to the alienage. When we got there, the same kids were there talking with adults, worriedly over a missing friend. However, they stopped when they saw us enter through.</p><p>Valin, holding the skewers, rushed over to his friends and the adults, specifically going to the old lady first. “Hahren! I got food!”</p><p>The old elven lady glanced at us suspiciously, and of course, they would think it’d be poison, but then two more elves came out from the side. Papa didn’t look too surprised as if knowing we were tailed the entire time.</p><p>“Hahren. The food is safe.” The elf with the red bandana tied around his forehead spoke to her as he reached out and ruffled Valin’s hair. “Go ahead and share it with your friends.”</p><p>Valin grinned widely as he opened the bag, letting everyone take one or two, naturally sharing the goods.</p><p>The red-bandana elf approached us. “Thank you… there aren’t a lot of kind shemlen.”</p><p>“No, there aren’t… I am only letting my daughter take the lead.” Papa said as he patted my head proudly.</p><p>I smiled a bit. “I know it’s not much…” Glancing around, I could tell the alienage was definitely the slums of any city with the poorest of living conditions. They were only lucky that it would never be as cold as Ferelden.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Lilah. Can I ask you something? Does the city provide the alienage a ‘soup kitchen’?” I asked.</p><p>The guy tilted his head. “…No. What is a soup kitchen?”</p><p>Taken back, I turned to my father to see if he knew the concept, but he was also looking at me curiously. Turning back around, I decided to answer. “It’s a food relief… mostly funded by the government to feed the hungry… But I can see there isn’t one...”</p><p>Then he glared at me. “Huh? So, what if we don’t? We don’t want your pity, little shem!”</p><p>Uh-oh. I could feel father getting angry.</p><p>“Don’t call me a shem!” I snapped, then I tucked my hair back and showed him my pointy short ears, proclaiming aloud, “… I have <em>Dalish</em> blood in me!”</p><p><em>Bandana </em>took a step back, mostly surprised, then Valin ran up and punched him right at the side. He let out a surprised groaned as he doubled over.</p><p>“Don’t bully Lilah, <em>Tavin!</em>” Valin scolded.</p><p>“Ugh! You little brat!” Bandana snarled as he grabbed the smaller elf and began rubbing his fist on his head, enacting a ‘noogie’. Valin cried aloud in pain, struggling to get out of his grasp.</p><p>I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh, and then the elder elf approached us.</p><p>“Thank you… Human or not, elf or not, you’ve done a good deed… most would take him to the guard if he was caught,” the elder said. “The young ones these days… I’d like to say they won’t try again, but…”</p><p>“I know,” I said. “The societal circumstances enabled many to turn to a life of crime… it’s not like a farmland.”</p><p>We hardly ever had crimes in our farmlands and the villages around it. Food was abundant, and not many wanted more than that. There would be horse crimes—like stealing horses, but these thieves were mostly non-residents of our area.</p><p>“…Hahren.” I spoke and she glanced at me, surprised. “I will make some changes… wait for me!”</p><p>Then her face settled to a small, sad smile. “That’s awfully kind of you, but…!...!”</p><p>The two brotherly elves stopped fighting when they saw me handing my red-velvet coin purse to the Hahren. I grasped her frail hands firmly, looking straight at her big brown, weary eyes and said, “I’m coming back to make changes! So, wait for me!”</p><p>She was rendered speechless and before she could even argue or refuse my purse, father stepped in and he also handed over his purse.</p><p>I glanced up at him surprised.</p><p>“This… this is too much!” Hahren argued, but Max shook his head.</p><p>“It is not. Donations like these are small compared to other matters,” He said. “Please take this donation not from my name, but from hers. This is my daughter, Lilah <em>Trevelyan</em>… Please use this coin only for the alienage here. For those who are hungry… who are suffering… It’s not a lot, but it should help, yes?”</p><p>“I… Yes… yes, this helps us plenty…” Hahren admitted, trembling visibly as she took the coin.</p><p>Already, I’ve noticed so many spectators. Many elves had gathered, though keeping their distance, they witnessed the exchange between us and their elder. Some were shocked, perhaps some were angry, but few interrupted. They couldn’t, and I knew they needed the coin.</p><p>“This isn’t over yet… like I said I’ll be back.” I told her, promised her.</p><p>“…Dalen… you are half-elf, but you are also half-human. You could hide those ears and keep growing up as one of them,” She said. “Live a good and satisfied life… you need not step down for us.”</p><p>A flare of anger and sadness flourished inside me as I shook my head stubbornly. “That’s true. All that may be true! …But, as you say, I am half-human, but I am also half-elf! …And unlike other elves, I am in a position of power to do something about it. I can’t just close my eyes and pretend this isn’t happening. That’s not me.”</p><p>I made her speechless again, and then Max patted my head. “…Let’s go.”</p><p>Nodding, I follow after my father’s strides, leaving the alienage, but vowing to return.</p><p>§</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What's Up?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It had been three weeks since our last visit to the city of Ostwick. I was in a lot of trouble with Dada and Nana when I got home. Aunt Eve was the only one who found it all endearing of me to beat all the girls up, but that was until I told them my plan on apologizing. She started to overreact, crying and saying how I was such a good girl and that I was growing up too fast. Nana started crying over that too, saying that I was learning how to take responsibility so early in life. Ah… my family…</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Anyways, I gathered a few of the servants of the house, mostly Portia, Shaera, Audrey, and Nareez. Before I could make any of the apology letters, I made a list of the girls that I punched. Luckily, letters were sent to Dada and Nana, expressing their grievances over what happened, and I used those to list out the girls that I used violence and/or traumatized.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>With those letters of complaints, I counted that I had to make sixteen bunny plushies.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>They were confused as to what a plushie was, so I decided to show them step by step on how to make one. I made sure to have several templates ready of when they need to cut the fabric. They sat there, both in awe and wonder, as I showed them steps and sewed in front of them. They stayed quiet, mesmerized by my actions and my instructions. As I did this, I had a couple of them start sewing on the parts, like the ears, legs, and arms.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>After almost two hours with their help, we made a white fluffy bunny with fabric so soft (and expensive, but papa said not to worry), with buttons for eyes, and sewn mouth.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I hugged it tightly before passing it to them to hug.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“… It has to pass the hug test!” I said with great import.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>They hugged it, and I could tell they were falling in love with it. I took the bunny back after they were done and began adding some accessories as I recalled Francine Bowen had a cute little chantry necklace and also a flower bracelet. I made sure to add those while the ladies helping started making the bunnies.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>As they worked on making the bunnies and I worked on the accessories, Audrey asked me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m so surprised, Lady Lilah,” she began. “I’ve never seen you sew before, but you’re quite good at it.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes!” Shaera agreed with her. “Where did you even learn how to make these?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I don’t think anyone has ever seen these before,” Portia said. “They are quite adorable.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Thinking back on it, where did I learn how to do this? Their questions troubled me, because I really don’t remember how I knew how to do this. It didn’t make any sense to me, but I just did it because it felt like something I had done before—something extremely worthwhile. For a moment, it scared me, but I forced a smile on my face, turning to them.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes… I’m glad you ladies like it. Maybe whatever’s leftover, you could use it to make your own?” I suggested, swiftly changing the topic. “We shouldn’t waste any of these materials. Portia, you could give one for each of your two daughters, and Shaera, you’re pregnant, right? It’ll be a nice future gift. And Audrey, you have a little sister. You can make one for yourself and for her. And Nareez? You always said that your mother liked cute things.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>They paused from their work, their mouths gaping at me for a <em>very</em> long time.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I blinked. “…Umm… is something wrong?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then their eyes teared up and they started crying. Audrey had to be the most dramatic one as she cried out, “My Lady!! I’ll follow you anywhere!!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Huh?!</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Portia gasped, rubbing the tears away. “Thank the maker for such a blessed child with a big heart.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Both Shaera and Nareez nodded as they frantically wiped their tears away.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Okay! Enough! Get back to work!” I cried out, getting extremely uncomfortable from all their crying.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then I heard shuffling noises from the door, and I turned to it that was left ajar. Tilting my head to the side I wondered… was Papa watching? Geez… he should have just come in if he wanted to stay.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Ah well…</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>So, the girls and I did this for the next five days until we got all sixteen plushies. Nana and Aunt Eve screamed in delight when they saw adorable little plushies that I had to make one for each of them as well. Each bunny was personally customized based on the girls that wore items on that day—and if I didn’t know them, I just other accessories to make them stand out differently than the others. I made sure to put down stationary stock cards that said, “Hi! My name is ___”, and I left it blank for them to name it.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Without further or do, I wrote the letters easily and individually, and I even wrote down apology letters to the parents.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>One night as I was doing this, papa walked in and ruffled my hair.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“It’s late at night. You should continue this tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Okay… let me finish this one.” I said, knowing it was twenty minutes passed my curfew.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I can tell he was smiling as he leaned in and kissed my forehead. “… You are very kind…!...! …You’re writing to Patriarch Bann Bowen as well?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“He’s Francine’s Grandfather, so yes. I don’t know if he adores her or anything, so I might as well write to him,” I said. “And a plea to meet with him. I haven’t forgotten about the elves in the alienage…”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>His eyes glanced over the paper. “…You are quite the genius… I don’t believe we taught you some of these words… like ‘grievances’, or ‘redemption’…”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“As you say, I am a genius…” I said warily. It scared me too, but I just already knew some of these things. “…I’m still your daughter, you know.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, no doubt about that, <em>Cara Mia</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I paused then glanced up at him questionably. He smiled half-sheepishly. “…Is it bad? It’s a nickname that I’ve been working on to try on you… it’s something your mother had said that she wanted to call you… is it too forward?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Shaking my head ‘no’ quickly, I placed the quill down and turned to hug my father tightly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“No… no, I’m glad, papa…”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>This was better than him just hiding in the shadows, and it really felt like we were a closer family than a year ago.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>And just like that, the <b><em>three weeks</em></b> had passed and in return, I had gotten hundreds of letters. Frightening letters—all good ones, but didn’t I just send letters to <b>sixteen </b>girls? How did it reach a hundred? Granted, I made two more bunnies. One for Uncle Donnic with a bunny dressed as a templar, and another bunny for Kyle Morgan that was dressed a pirate, but Maker’s stinky feet, these plush bunnies attracted so much attention.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>All five of us family, excluding uncle Donnic who was not here, started sifting through the letters, trying to get only the important ones. The rest of them were requests that accompanied with tangible gifts and intangible promises that piled up in our foyer.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>There was one letter that had a brilliant diamond ring that requested me to marry their son, but before I could find out who, Papa took the ring and threw it out the window as far as he could.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Nana scolded him while Dada praised him.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I shook my head. <em>Fathers.</em></span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Finally, we found the sixteen letters that were of high importance to me and we read them all. Needless to say, <em>all was forgiven</em>. The girls loved their stuffed bunnies. However, I started to think of the repercussions of making stuffed bunnies, because you know… Orlesians would call elves ‘Rabbits’, but let’s not go there, right now. It’s already too late. Still, in the back of my mind, I hoped they would be a little nicer to elves.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>What made these letters even more overwhelming were the parents saying that they hadn’t thought of elves that much. I had made sure to write about my feelings on being half-elf and half-human, and most of them were quite sympathetic. Some were for the wrong reasons, and others showed they have a good heart.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That’s good. It was a step forward to a better future, I thought. Not just for me, but for all elves.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then, I found the letter from Patriarch Bann Bowen. It was a formal invitation, and that lodgings would be provided for me and my family.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Only me, papa, and aunt Eve were going, especially after I told them about how I planned to start a soup kitchen in, not only the alienage, but other rural poor areas. It would also be better to have that done with the Bowen family for reputation sake and strengthen the ties to the Chantry.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Do you also have Orlesian blood running in you, dear niece?” Aunt Eve asked. “You certainly have everyone at the palm of your hands. Even the Dwarven Merchant Guild is asking for your expertise on these plush bunnies that everyone is asking for.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Uhh… I don’t know, do we? I mean we are Trevelyan’s,” I quipped back and she laughed.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“So true! You know, we should make a profit out of this,” Eve pointed out.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Max made a face. “<em>Eve.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“What? It’s for her benefit, brother. She needs to establish some capital, esteem, and reputation in the future. She is after all your daughter, but she won’t be head of the family.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“She has a point, Papa.” I told him, holding his hand. “But that’s okay. We can take it slow. I’m not growing up that fast.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He relaxed at that, but then Eve started laughing at him. “Is that what you worried about? Your little girl leaving you so early? Awwwee, Max, you’re so cute!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Papa glared at her, flushing bashfully, but he didn’t let go of my hand, even pouting.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>When we arrived at the Patriarch’s home, we were welcomed graciously and brought into the drawing-room. Inside, the Patriarch and Francine’s parents were there, and Francine herself, holding the bunny I made for her tightly. Her nose, of course, fixed and healed. Right now, I felt </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>She saw me and ran right over to me, hugging me tightly. “<em>Lilah!</em>”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Yup… okay… freaked out.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Umm…” Awkwardly, I hugged her back.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>After a second, she pulled away, smiling wide but then she stepped back, lowering her head guiltily.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m sorry I slapped you…” She said, and my heart tugged.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…I’m sorry I insulted your mom…and broke your nose…” I responded timidly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I… I don’t really care that you’re half an elf,” she said. “…I was just jealous of you because everyone’s talking about how pretty you are, or what a nice voice you have… At every party, they never stopped talking about you.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I flushed at that. “R-really? I thought people hated me since they found out about my ears.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>In the corner of my eye, I could see Francine’s mother, Cecile if I recall, turning her head away embarrassed. She did live up to her reputation being a gossiping moniker, but it was nice to see that she was feeling admonished about it.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Do you all listen to this?” The Patriarch interrupted us. “…How beautiful is this? Young children, so innocent, and yet so brilliant, understanding their wrongs and easily righting those mistakes, clearing up misunderstandings. Now if only the rest of the adults would be like this, there wouldn’t be so much problems in societies. Hahahaha!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Ah. I like this Grandpa. He’s like a jolly Santa, but thinner.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>We all sat down now, having tea and tasty sandwiches. The atmosphere was a lot better as Aunt Eve forgivingly started chatting with Cecile as if they were old friends, and Papa talked with Keith, Francine’s father.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Was it truly your idea?” The Patriarch asked me a question directly?</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Umm, which idea?” I asked.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“This soup kitchen.” He clarified. “It has never been done before.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes. This can be done,” I said as I tapped my father for his satchel. He took it off and opened it, taking out the papers I asked him to carry, before placing it on the coffee table for them to see. Keith was also interested and he leaned in as both he and the Patriarch read it over.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“This is a proposal of how a soup kitchen is done and made. These are merely the projected costs to cover the ingredients, salaries, and other business expenses,” I explained. “It would need this much of coin to operate every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>They remained silent for the next thirty-forty minutes, reading over the papers that I prepared <em>after</em> I was done making the apology letters and consolation gifts.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Mr. Keith Bowen then looked right at me, before turning over to Aunt Eve and Max. “…Did she really make this? None of you helped her?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Both my aunt and my father nodded their heads, resigning.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…This isn’t… something a little girl can do…” He pointed out.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’ve been told I’m a genius, many times over,” I assured him as he looked back at me. I was trying to convince him that this was a normal thing for me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then the Patriarch asked, “…How old are you, Lady Lilah?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m seven years old, though I’m not your typical seven years old,” I admitted.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He chuckled. “I can believe that now… Tell me, Lilah, what are your plans for the future?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…My plans? For the future…?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Pouting, I thought hard and long about that. Somehow, I also doubted that we would even have a future, because of…something, but…</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Hey Grandpa, I know I’m not typical, but I am <em>still</em> just a little girl,” I finally responded with something snarky. “I have all the time in the world to think about my future plans.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My response was unexpected and he burst into a jolly laugh while the other adults just gaped at me with their hanging jaws.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hey! He’s <em>my</em> grandpa!” Francine protested.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Quickly, I assured her. “Maker, he is! You’re so lucky! Your grandpa is awesome!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>She was taken back by my response and she settled down with a proud smile. “Right? I guess you can call him Grandpa too.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“No! Lilah, that is rude!” Aunt Eve chided me, and she usually doesn’t scold me that often.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Grandpa Patriarch waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, no, it is fine. I’ve taken quite a liking to this young mind of brilliance. She could teach my granddaughter here so many things, and I intend for you two to become close friends.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Ah… That’s right.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to include her always in my future plans. This is for her benefit, right?” I asked. I understood right away. “A very worthwhile investment.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He smiled warmly. “Worthwhile indeed… now if only you were a boy, I would have made to sure get you both engaged.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I felt Papa stiffen at that mention of marriage and Aunt Eve had to clamp her mouth from laughing.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Please don’t jest,” I begged him.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Thankfully, Grandpa Patriarch agreed to the terms with the condition that we were to throw a charity ball every month. We were to throw the party at the Bowen’s estate, and I was fine with that. It meant getting monthly donations to start two soup kitchens, one for the alienage and the other for Ostwick poverty district. Everything was for the intention of deterring crime.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>However, this was only the beginning.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>To get it started, both my family and the Bowen donated first to get the soup kitchens promptly started. It took a couple of weeks for that to happen, and I had to make sure one was properly set up in the Alienage. I also made a rule that as long as they had the coin, they can have a limit of two purchases for different meals of the day. The cost of each bowl is one or two coppers—or none because we don’t turn away the hungry. If they can pay, they can, but if they can’t, that’s okay.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The donation looked costly to me, but as long as we have this charity ball, then we could keep the soup kitchens running. Still, Aunt Eve’s suggestion on starting my own business on plush toys was sounding quite tempting to do. I could also raise the prices on these bunnies and use a percentage of the coin to keep donating to the Soup Kitchens.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Are you ready?” Papa asked.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Are you?” I returned as he looked just as fidgety as I was.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It’s been a month since we’ve implemented everything, and tonight was the Charity Ball. Father was a bit nervous as this would be his first time in a long time, returning to the world of nobles. As for me, this would be my absolute first debut. Normally, children aren’t invited to this sort of events, but since I was the proprietor of this idea, I had to be present.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He didn’t answer and so I reached out, taking his hand.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Let’s go together, Papa. We can both be scared then.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That made him crack a smile. “…I should be comforting<em> you.</em> Not the other way around.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned at that. “We all have our parts to play…”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>With that, we left our room and went to join Nana, Dada, and Aunt Eve. The ball was just starting, announcing the guests, and we made our way over to the Bowen’s, waiting until every guest invited was present.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Ahh, welcome, and dear Lady Lilah, you look just as stunning, though of course, my granddaughter is much cuter.” He said, and I couldn’t help but snort at such a doting old man.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hello, grandpa Patriarch. How do you do?” I greeted him with a curtsy.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“<em>Grandpa?</em>” Dada protested, mostly offended.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Patriarch grinned, teasing my biological grandfather. “Looks like I’m her grandpa too, Bryce. I hope you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Nana immediately pulled Dada away to calm him down as both Papa and aunt were just shaking their heads. I could only watch, mostly surprised at how jealous and temper-triggered Trevelyan’s can get.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Once all the guests were settled, the music died down, and the Patriarch took to a platform stage of the room, getting everyone’s attention.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I would like to thank all the guests for coming to this Charity Ball. May the Maker bless all your generous hearts, and keep your loved ones safe and happy, as the donations will be used for the soup kitchens,” the Patriarch began. “What is this soup kitchen? Well… perhaps I shall let our little proprietor explain… Lady Lilah Blakely Trevelyan. Please join me here.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Flushing, I took a deep breath and out before getting out of my seat and making my way over the stage. The audience began their whispers when they saw me, making my way over to the stage, probably shocked to find out that I was only a little girl.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Once I got there, I glanced around. There were plenty of faces I recognized that were probably the five houses, and of course the Maldwynne house that rules over Ostwick. There were also the dwarves that were not only from the Merchant Guild, but also connected with the Carta.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Stage is yours.” Grandpa Patriarch prompted me to speak.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I cleared my throat.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hello and good evening. My name is Lilah, and…” I stopped a moment, and started to think of what to really say. After a while, I pulled off the bows from my hair, letting it fall, and then turned my head, lifting the strands of my hair.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Showing them my pointy ears, I yelled, “I am a half-human and a half-elf!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My announcement shocked all of them. Some of them already knew, but they didn’t think I would have the gall to reveal myself like this. Now, I got their <em>full</em> attention.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“My father is a human and my mother is a Dalish—<em>Was…</em> She died when she gave birth to me,” I began and I glanced over at my father, who looked both scared and sad. “…But I have a wonderful, loving family that nurtured and cared for me, despite of my ears! …They never judge me for what I am, but for who I am, and even now I still struggle over that… <em>Who am I?</em> …Do they mean where I’m from? What I am? What I’ve done?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Do they mean who I love? What I believe? Or what I want to do in the future? Do they mean if I belong to the world of humans? Of Nobility? Or do I belong to the world of elves? To the Dalish of which my mother was from?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The silence and their rapt attention to me urged me to continue.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…I know who I am… I am my father’s daughter…I am a Trevelyan! And I am also a citizen of Ostwick,” I said. “…And I know that unlike many elves I am in a position of power to do something about our society. There is a high crime rate in this place that we call <em>Home</em>. And as citizens of Ostwick, each and every one of us has an obligation to better ourselves and our community… that is why I’m starting this soup kitchen to help those who are starving in the streets for elves, humans, dwarves, and even qunari—for every race that lives in poverty. And of course, this is just the beginning!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…This is Ostwick… My home. Let’s make it better and make it <em>Built to Last</em>.” My finish ended with the phrase that all Ostwickans know, and it incited the desired effect. </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>At first, it was quiet and still, mouths gaping and eyes were wide, looking at me with disbelief.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Admonished, I quietly added, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Before I knew it, robust applause burst out from the audience in the room. I could see Nana and Aunt Eve trying not to cry. Papa looked less scared now as he was smiling at me proudly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Grandpa Patriarch patted my head. “What a heartfelt performance, Lilah.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I smiled. “It wasn’t a performance.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Indeed, it is not.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>As I returned to my seat, every guest near me threw a compliment at me until I reached my chair next to my father.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Father patted my head as well, then he leaned in and said, “I’m so proud of you, <em>Cara Mia</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I smiled big. “Thanks… I was so nervous.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He shook his head. “…I’ve always known it, but… you’re going to bring great things to this world. Just you wait.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I’d never been happier in my life until this night as I didn’t feel so poorly of my self for being a half.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>At the end of the ball, Patriarch told me how much the donations were, and it looks like this coin was going to last for the next several years. That was a good thing, but at the same time, we needed it. I didn’t know why, at the time, but I somehow knew that the Blight was coming.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SO! Officially on Lockdown!</p><p>I have a lot of time in my hands now as we battle the coronavirus!</p><p> </p><p>Good luck to us all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Phantom of the Opera</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…P…Pardon?” I strained to keep my face smiling but the fear was gripping tightly around my throat, stopping me from breathing.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The sharp beak of a nose, peacock lady, fluttered her eyes.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Should I lean closer to your level, so you can hear me, pet? If you think this play is so boring, then why don’t you write one yourself? I hear from <em>Esme</em> that you make short plays that are quite enjoyable.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, Aunty Lucille, please,” Nana cut in. “She’s only a little girl.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Yeah! That’s right! You’re asking for too much!</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then, Great-great-aunt Lucille’s lips curled into a victorious smile. “Oh my? Perhaps, it’s too difficult for a genius like you? Maybe you are just a child, who knows not much of the theatre.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My face flushed red. Ooooh, this beaky lady!</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Papa warned me, “<em>Lilah.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Lady!” I called for her. “You got yourself a deal!” </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then my father slapped a palm to his face.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“OH…My…GOD!” I exasperated, throwing my head to the desk. “What do I do!?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“<em>Oh my God?</em>” Aunt Eve inquired with her left brow probably raised skeptically.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I’m sorry, but I tried to warn you, Cara Mia.” Papa chided me, but I didn’t need that right now.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I was in a <em>crisis.</em></span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>We traveled to Markham for a little family vacation, visiting Dada’s side of the family, Aunt Lucille. She was highly interested in the art of theatre, music, and literature. It’s no surprise that she invited us over to watch a recently renowned play in the city of Markham.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It was hardly <em>renowned</em> unless one would think ‘Mother Beatrice taking a dump on a Sunday’ is interesting, then maybe they would enjoy the play.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Even the title sounded boring: The Pleasant Garden.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>‘Ha! More like The <em>Lifeless</em> Garden!’ I had loudly remarked after the play.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>At the time, I didn’t know I had offended her as she continued to ask me for criticism, and <em>boy</em>, did I give her criticism on that sorry-excuse of a play. I should have listened to my family’s warnings when they were waving at me, shaking their heads no, and signaling ‘shh’ at me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>However, I wanted my opinions to be heard! Come on! I had to suffer for <em>three hours</em> of excruciating boredom! I <em>especially</em> suffered when that main character kept talking about a flower for <em>fifteen minutes!!</em></span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Fuck me when I realized Aunt Lucille wrote the script.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Nice… Good job me. I felt like… like a <em>turd</em>.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Before I could even apologize, she started saying that I said some words that a certain actor had already pointed out, and yet so many people liked her play. She started insulting me at how I was still a child and that I didn’t know anything about stories.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I don’t know what was wrong with me, but she <em>easily</em> triggered me, and I realized I fell right into her honey trap.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I told her. ‘Well, that’s because people are too nice to tell you the truth that the script was dull. You heard them all yawning in there.’</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>‘Cara Mia!’ I heard my Papa whispering to shut up, and maybe should have listened.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>And now?</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>NOW, I must write a play… I had until the end of the week to make a really good play. She said that I can use her theatre and the actors for my play, and it has to be a very good one.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“What am I going to do? …I can’t do this!” I cried in hopelessness. “Numbers, structure, proposals—I can do all that! But a story? A play?!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Don’t sell yourself short, Cara Mia,” Papa said. “That last skit you had us do was quite entertaining. <em>Little Red Riding Hood?</em>”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I blanched. “But it was a kid’s story, and it was only enjoyable because I had Uncle Donnic play as the wolf, and he also played as the Grandma in bed.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>At the mention of that, both Papa and Aunt Eve burst into laughter as the hilarious memory popped in their head.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“<em>The better to see you with, my dear~!</em>” Aunt Eve mocked aloud, making Papa double over more on laughter.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>It’s nice that Papa was coming out of his shell much more comfortably, but still, I was no closer into solving my crises. Think! What sort of play can I write about?</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Ugh...! This shouldn’t be so difficult! I’m a genius, after all!” I cried.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“And modest,” Aunt Eve muttered.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Papa then reached out, taking the quill from my hand and setting it down. “Lilah, you’ve been sitting in this chair for past hour with nothing the word ‘the’ on paper. Why don’t we go outside?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Max! That’s a great idea!” Aunt Eve said, smiling. “It’ll help you get inspired!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I pursed my lips, thinking about it, before I decided that they were right. At the moment, I was suffering on writer’s block and malicious anxiety and pressure. Walking it off might help me get some inspiration.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>So, we went.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>We explored the city of Markham, and the architectural designs of most of these buildings reminded me a lot of dwarven and Tevinter structures. A mix of two historical cultures that made the city seem functional, old, and rather sturdy, if any of my explanation made sense. It reminded me a lot of Markarth in Skyrim, but this city was closer into the lower valleys of the Vinmark Mountains.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Wait… what’s Markarth? Skyrim? Do I know a Skyrim?</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Something wrong, Cara Mia?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Hmm? Oh nothing…” I put it away for now.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Lately, I’ve been getting memories that I couldn’t understand, and knowledge that I never recall from which book I had read it from. Like, one time, when Aunt Eve was complaining about how the crops were not yielding as much, I suggested a different method of crop-rotation. Aunt Eve didn’t need more convincing from me when I told her to plant more soil-enriching plants like beans and peas, and purchasing more druffalos on the farmlands. She quickly implemented the change, and of course, several months later, we started to see the positive results.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>As always, she never questioned if I was right, but more so as to <em>where</em> I had learned such a thing. I always answered from some book, but she and I both knew I was lying. Honestly… I had no clue, and that <em>scares</em> me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>After walking around and not getting any closer to an ounce of inspiration, we went to visit the theatre again, but this time, going into the backstage. Currently, the actors, set, and other workers were getting ready for tonight’s show of ‘The Lifeless---PLEASANT---Garden’.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>To my chagrin, the actor was playing out his flower soliloquy.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“OH…MY GOD!” I cried aloud, unable to take it.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Everyone had stopped, turning their rapt attention at me. Papa threw me a scolding look, but I’m sure he too was glad that the actor stopped. Aunt Eve was just trying not to laugh. Honestly, she just likes it whenever I’m doing something mischievous.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Is there a problem?” The actor asked, approaching me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes! Yes, there is!” I said, then I reached out, snatching the script from his paper, and cleared my throat.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Roses have thorns that can pierce the skin.” I spoke, but instead of dramatically, my tone was more dead with a dreading anger. “…And her thorns have pricked my skin… everywhere, I bleed!! How <em>dare</em> that flower play with my heart! How dare I to be a petal swept in the air! For that ROSE!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Everyone fell silent, staring at me with their mouths gaping.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The flower soliloquy was about the gardener falling in love with a noblewoman, and what he thought to be a love blossoming in his garden, was nothing more but fair game for her. It annoyed me at how sad the character was when he should have been upset.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I threw the script back to his hands. “She PLAYED you, <em>Roland! …</em>Is this what men do? Do they cry?! No! You should be upset! You should be angry, and hurt, and taking deep breaths to calm down—she was with another man just last night! If you love her that much, you should be cranky because of the lack of sleep! Or how you wept quietly and silently in your bedroom last night! You should still be a little bit in denial!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The actor’s character, Roland, blinked at me. “I-…I…”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“She <em>played</em> you, Roland! You meant nothing to her. Just a one-night stand,” I told him. “How does <em>that</em> make you feel?” </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>What I didn’t expect was the man to fall on his knees and cry.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Completely creeped out, I moved away and hid behind Papa, who was also mortified. Though, I wasn’t sure which one he was more scared of. He was either creeped out the actor was bawling his eyes out… </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>…or maybe, more so, on the fact that I made a grown-ass man cry.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Clap… Clap…Clap…!</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Slowly clapping caught my attention as I tuned out the actor that was sobbing, and I glanced to see a man with a lute approaching us.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Bravo! Bravo!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The phantom of the opera mask—though fully-covered his face rather than just the side—approached us, still clapping for me.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I tilted my head. “<em>Zither?</em>”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He was taken back before he burst into an arrogant laugh. “Hahaha! I see that I <em>do</em> have fans here in Markham! That old crone was wrong! You hear that, Stan? Even this little girl knew who I was! I <em>am</em> famous!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Ah… crap.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Do you know this…peculiar man, Lilah?” Aunt Eve asked me, whispering when she leaned in close. Papa was also looking at me oddly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I shook my head, quickly thinking up a lie, “Oh no, I just… heard about a famous Orlais family that runs a theater in Val Royeaux from… Lady Bowen.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My family’s faces screamed ‘We don’t believe you’, but they said nothing else.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Suddenly, the eccentric man was in front of me, introducing himself, “My name is Gilles Zither! And I am attending the Markham University to study the art of the Theater,” he said, then he knelt down, taking my hand. “May I have the honor in knowing your name, My Lady?” </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I took my hand back and rubbed whatever germs he had on my dress, which caused Aunt Eve to laugh, but it shocked Gilles.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>To make it up, I curtsied for him. “How do you do? I am Lilah Trevelyan, Granddaughter of Bann Trevelyan.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“And these are <em>your</em> lovely parents?” He tried again, remaining to be amiable, but I know he wasn’t.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, <em>my</em> mother is dead.” I flat out told him, which made him gap at me, and a couple of others tried not to guffaw. It wasn’t funny, but it startlingly became awkward, which was my goal.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He became loss for words, which made me smile, as I properly introduced them.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“This is my Aunt Eve and this is my Papa.” I simply said. “So, how can I help you?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He got up, backed away and started to laugh. “Hahahahah! Ohhhhhh… Oh now I like you, but honestly, baby-face, it’s how <em>I</em> can help you by helping me.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>A deadpanned expression settled on my lovely features. Dryly, I asked him, “Come again?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Ohh, now, don’t give me that look. I overheard your deal with Lady Lucille, and I thought I should give you free reign on changing this production,” He said, grinning widely. “What you portrayed to us, and how Marty here should act the character of heart-broken, jaded Roland is quite promising.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Did I hear him right?</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“…Wait…You want me to tweak the script?” I asked.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Well… all of it, if you can, but keep the theme as it is,” He said.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The theme… the theme of the story…</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Suddenly, inspiration was coming to me, and I grinned widely. </span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Sure! But it’s off your head when Aunty-Lucille finds out!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He laughed. “Oh no, baby-face, haha! I’ll be miles away by then before that happens.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Gilles Zither wasn’t the ‘ZITHER!’ that I had heard about, and furthermore, I heard that one was a mage. This Zither was ordinary and was seriously attending Markham University to become a better playwriter. Lady Lucille is his teacher and teaches Theater and literature. Now, I’m no prodigy, but I know a good story.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That night, the theater was half-booked, probably already hearing how dry and boring it is, but all of that was about to change. Like every night, Aunt Lucille would come to see her own play brought to life, and for this night, she was going to have the shock of her life.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Long to short, ‘The Pleasant Garden’ was about a young noblewoman who fell in love with the gardener working in their fields, but she was already engaged to someone else. Her family noticed the interactions, and she claimed it was nothing more but a fling. However, she did more than plowing with the garden when they stumbled away out of the picture. Later on, she returned to her Fiancé, who accused her of cheating but no proof so she slept with him to keep him sated. The main character knew she went to her fiancé that night and had sex. The main character is distraught…</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Throughout this play, I carefully watched Aunt Lucille’s face as she showed a variety of expressions with mixed emotions, most of them: shock and confusion.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The flower scene took the cake away.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The scene began with Roland tending the garden, rather solemnly and sulky. Then he began his soliloquy, and when he was a couple of sentences, he trailed off… He went quiet, though everyone could see his shoulders trembling.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then slowly his face started to churn in simmering rage and angry tear. In one second, he let out a wail of distraught as he whirled, grabbing the shovel and began pummeling ruthlessly the rose bushes, destroying the red roses. His reaction stunned everyone in the audience, especially Aunt Lucille.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>After a couple more whacks, he threw the shovel away and walked off the stage.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then, the Love interest, Marigold, strolled in with her face alarmed as she approached the garden. She picked up the flowers. No words were said. Instead, she bent over, her lock of curls covering her face, as she began to weep quietly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>From backstage, I looked at the crowd again, and some of them, mostly ladies, were crying. They were quickly taking their handkerchiefs out to wipe their tears or blow their snots, even Aunt Lucille was heartbroken.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The play continued until it ended on a different note than the original. The finale was of Lady Marigold, now working as a gardener for another noble family. Then her son came running in, and she called him Roland, named after her father.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>The curtains dropped, and the audience immediately burst into applause, clapping gloriously at the finish.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Then I heard sobbing, and I turned around to see Aunt Eve, crying. “Oh my God,” she tested out my phrase. “That was… I’m so happy, and yet so sad at the same time!!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Better than Lady Marigold getting engaged to the villain?” I asked.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh yes! I would never marry that murderer!” Aunt Eve cried. “I would have run away!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Good. Well, the rest of the story went with Marigold making up with Roland as they both try to run away. ‘<em>Try</em>’ is the keyword, because Gilles insisted that the main character had to die, and I agreed. The audience was so emotionally well-invested in the main character that he had to die in order to hurt them. So, Roland still failed at getting Marigold out of there, <em>but</em> the change part was that Marigold found out about the murder and ran away… and years later, she’s happily working in the garden, and her son—her treasure, is with her.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Lilah?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes, Papa?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“What made you choose that ending?” He asked.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I smiled sadly. “Hits too close to home, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He nodded.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Before I could give him my answer, both Zither and Aunt Lucille approached me. My great-great-aunt was still wiping away her tears while Zither walked over with a big grin on his face.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Oh, baby-face! The play was a success! All those tweaks made the audience wanting more! I’m sure they’ll be back tomorrow, and maybe we’ll get a full house again!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned. “I’m glad I could help, but really, the actors did an amazing job, playing as the characters both dynamically and emotionally. I just threw a suggestion here and there.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Well, those little suggestions will make this play a success every night from now on,” he said, then he turned to my great-great-aunt. “Isn’t that right?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>She nodded as she slowly gathered her bearings, taking deep breaths. “Ohh… Lilah… I must say you have greatly impressed me, and not many do… I was too arrogant to see that my play was so dull that a seven-year-old had to change things to make it a success.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Suddenly, I felt extremely bad. I had done the most horrible thing possible. This play was her baby, and I had changed it as if it were mine. My eyes began to water, and they noticed me that I was about to cry, but before they could ask, I ran over to my aunt and hugged her tightly.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>She was stunned as I said, “I’m sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m sorry I called your play boring! I should have been nicer with my words, or I shouldn’t have said anything at all! I’m sorry I hurt you with my words, Aunty! And I’m sorry, but I’m not like you. I can’t write a play like this! I can’t write stories, but you, for you it comes naturally, and for me, who is inexperienced, to say such horrible things--”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Shhhhhh,” She stopped me and hugged me back. “…It’s okay… I am glad you said something, Lilah, and you know what? We can forget about that deal we had if you could do me a different favor?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I sniffled a bit. “What… will that be? Because I really <em>can’t</em> write a play.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>She chuckled. “I hear you. I’m thinking more along the lines of you becoming my editor. How about it?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My heart soared. “Yes! Yes, I would love to! You have a really good story here, and I’m sure you’ll make better ones in the future. I’ll just polish it a little here and there.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>That made her laugh and she stood up. “Still, I’m quite surprised you kept the theme of the story, and made sure it ended sort of happily.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“And… what exactly was the theme of the story?” Aunt Even questioned. “I’m quite curious now.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Turning my head, I answered. “The long, winding bridge between the Nobles and the Commoners is a one-way trip, or you drown in the waters under it.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>My answer made them still, and Zither nodded sympathetically.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“Yes… that’s it. In this case, Roland has drowned,” he said.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“But Lady Marigold crossed the other side,” I pointed out, and simultaneously, I gave my answer to my dad. “Because, above all else, <em>love</em> is the most important thing in life.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>Papa’s brows raised. “That’s it? So simple?”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>I grinned. “Yup. As simple as that,” I ran right over and hugged him. “Love you, papa!”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>He picked me up and held me close in his embrace, leaving a sweet kiss on my forehead.</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>“I love you too, Cara Mia.”</span>
</p><p class="Ao3Style">
  <span>§</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The World is Unraveling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>§</p>
<p>“Where was <em>I</em> the entire time?” Uncle Donnic asked as he looked at me with eyes so wide and jaw hung quite low.</p>
<p>“In your tower like some princess,” I replied cheekily, which made Nana pinch my arm for discipline. “Ow!”</p>
<p>“It was cute when you were younger being so cheeky, but now you’re ten years old,” Nana scolded me. “You should be acting more mature and more lady-like, especially with how much you’ve accomplished at such a <em>very</em> young age.”</p>
<p>“Right? She’s doing more than Max has ever done,” Aunt Eve threw another insult, this time at my papa, and thankfully, Nana pinched her as well. “Ow!”</p>
<p>I stuck my tongue out at my aunt when she was admonished before proceeding to eat my food. “How long will you be staying this time, Uncle Donnic?”</p>
<p>“As usual, after your birthday, and your father’s,” he said. “Still… how come I’ve never heard of this? Since when did you have a business? And all these refugees in the area?”</p>
<p>“Former refugees,” I corrected him. “They now have their own homes, and they have been quite helpful in the farmlands output production. The village has been needing more helping hands, and after the blight, we traded so much food that it helped brought economy back to its feet by the end of the year.”</p>
<p>“She’s not wrong. She’s contributing more to our community than my children are, and she’s only ten,” Dada spoke, and all three kids gaped at their own father for the insult. I couldn’t help but laugh at their faces while Nana glanced him a raised brow, and he looked away quickly.</p>
<p>A lot has happened in these last three years.</p>
<p>When the blight came, I started implementing methods that would need more working hands on the fields. It confused Aunt Eve, but like I said, she would never question how I would know or if I was right, and just did it because she trusted me. Still, it took a while of convincing to get her on board, but Papa managed to talk her into it. Of course, she changed some things that made the transition smoother. At first, the villagers were confused until they heard of Lothering in Denerim desecrated by the blight. A huge in flux of refugees came to the Free Marches, and when they heard the Trevelyans were hiring, they came. Thankfully, we were prepared. We drafted a contract to many of them that until the blight is over, they can stay here for free with shelter and food so long as they contribute to the farmlands. Then, when the blight was announced to be over, we drafted a new contract of which extended these terms for the next six months. After that contract is over and that they still decide to stay with us, we can pay them and tax them three months after.</p>
<p>The deal was so good, most of them stayed and are now official residents of Ostwick.</p>
<p>Other than the blight, I had also started my business after that refugee crisis. Since the economy started picking right back up after the blight, it was a good enough time to start my business and hired plenty of female workers to make the bunnies. It helped that Aunt Eve suggested on also making my own fabric and just buying the cotton directly from the family at a lower affordable price. Honestly, the price difference was staggering and I saved more expenses for the business.</p>
<p>Needless to say, the stuffed animals were booming. I made sure that there were toys specifically made for the richer people and those who were poorer. The quality of the merchandise was noticeably segregated, but they were all still made with care.</p>
<p>Another thing was that I was seasonally working for Aunt Lucille as her editor. Whenever she had a script finished, I would go through it, make notes, and write back to her. It’s a long session of back-and-forth feedback that she would sometimes come over for a week to stay with us as we worked together on her script before she was happy with it. For her, this was enriching and worthwhile as she said her theater has never been more popular. A lot of wealthy Orlesians were visiting Markham now because of her plays. I’m glad.</p>
<p>Things were just going to get better from here on out—I guess until 9:37, I suppose…</p>
<p>Though I’m not really sure why I’m dreading for that year to come.</p>
<p>“Well… that was a ‘burn’ that will take some time to recover,” Aunt Eve commented as she stabbed her food with her fork, sulking.</p>
<p>It made me giggle since I could see she was pursing her lips from smiling.</p>
<p>“A ‘burn’?” Donnic questioned with a raised brow.</p>
<p>“Uncle Donnic! Do you still have the stuffed bunny I made for you?” I asked him.</p>
<p>He gave me a look. “You ask me that almost every year, and every year, I’m going to tell you this: I have it, and everyone keeps begging me if they could keep it, or give it to their daughter, or their lover, or they would ask me to ask you to make some for them. Does that help your little ego?”</p>
<p>I grinned big. “Yup! Glad it’s still so popular.”</p>
<p>Uncle shook his head at me. “Well, let’s keep that confidence up. I hope you’re ready for your first huge ball celebrating your tenth birthday.”</p>
<p>I sunk at that. “Not really.”</p>
<p>“But you’re so popular with the other kids close to your age,” Aunt Eve pointed out, and Papa rolled his eyes. “Honestly, too popular.”</p>
<p>“That’s a good thing for a noble lady, Max,” Nana reprimanded him. “You should be proud of your daughter, instead of plotting how to scare little kids away from them.”</p>
<p>Max crossed his arms, saying, “In my defense mother, that little pirate boy was trying to kiss her.”</p>
<p>I pursed my lips from laughing. I found it extremely endearing that all the others kept vying for my attention. It was so cute! Somehow my mind felt older than it should be, so when I saw all my friends—all the boys and girls close to my age, I only found them… cute.</p>
<p>“Still, I’m going to miss family-night.” I pointed out. It’s why we didn’t have balls for my birthday; I rather liked enjoying my birthday with my papa and the rest of the family, playing family games and doing skits, and opening presents.</p>
<p>Papa reached out and ruffled my hair. “We can still do that tonight before tomorrow’s big event.”</p>
<p>“Oh, can we?” I asked.</p>
<p>“Of course, <em>Cara Mia</em>.”</p>
<p>§</p>
<p>The following night came, and I’ve never been so nervous.</p>
<p>Facing the person in the mirror before me, she had grown a little taller now than she was all those years ago. I couldn’t help but reach out to touch her face. How can I be this pretty, I thought? I never remembered being this pretty, though I also don’t remember being anyone else.</p>
<p>At least, I don’t think I was anyone else.</p>
<p>“You know… sometimes you look at the mirror as if you don’t recognize yourself.”</p>
<p>Turning around, I saw Papa standing at the doorway in a nice suit.</p>
<p>“Hi Papa, you’re looking sharp.” I complimented him sincerely and honestly. He never wore such nice suits, and usually, he’d wear dreary, dull clothing that would blend into the background. Old habits of a retired assassin, I guess.</p>
<p>“And then you say words like that,” He noted as he walked over to me and knelt down to my level. I was still pretty short and he was pretty tall. With him kneeling down, we were at the same height.</p>
<p>“…What’s wrong?” He asked me.</p>
<p>Pursing my lips, I hesitated for a moment before telling him, “…Sometimes… sometimes I don’t know who I am. Every time I look at the mirror, I would wonder who she is. So pretty and so cute… though I don’t remember growing up this cute.”</p>
<p>When I gazed back at my father, he was wearing an amused smile with a skeptic brow.</p>
<p>Immediately, I threw my tiny fist at his shoulder. “I’m being serious here! I don’t know who this girl is! It’s like… it’s not my face!”</p>
<p>“Ohh? …And what would your real face look like?” He asked me.</p>
<p>Hesitantly, I wondered if I should show it to him or not. After a moment, I went away and reached for something under my bed. I hid it well enough that not even papa could find it. Soon, I got out the journal book that I have used as my sketchbook.</p>
<p>Bringing the red-leathered bound book to him, I flipped the pages to look for the portrait.</p>
<p>Papa leaned in curiously and in wonder. “…Ah, I see my daughter is also talented in drawing… this is so…realistic.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I have too many talents, I could be Mary Sue.”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“Here!” I stopped at a certain page that showed a girl with her pony tail up, wearing thick-square-rounded glasses, a ring piercing on her lip, and wearing a short-sleeved, crew-neck shirt with a symbol of a bat. “…This girl… I am her.”</p>
<p>She and I, of course, were starkly different: different noses, eyes, jaw-lines…</p>
<p>Papa tilted his head both now in confusion and wariness. He looked right at me, scared of… I wasn’t really sure what he was frightened of when he was looking at this drawing.</p>
<p>“…I… I had a feeling… that… maybe before you were Lilah… maybe you were someone else.” He began to say.</p>
<p>“What? …You mean like <em>reincarnation?</em>” I asked him.</p>
<p>His eyes darted down as if considering whether or not to tell me. All this time, I wondered… did he know? Had he known that I was different in a special way? If so, why hadn’t he say anything about it?</p>
<p>“…Your mother… used to talk about how there are other worlds out there beyond the fade,” He said. “…She would tell me about the possibilities of living other lives, and that while living other lives, we also have lived different timelines---endless possibilities.”</p>
<p>My eyes widened. “…The <em>Quantum Multiverse</em>…”</p>
<p>Then his eyes grew as wide as plates and he shook his head. “See… that scares me. You know that word when it doesn’t exist in any books… How do you know that?”</p>
<p>“I… I just do…” I said, realizing that there were many things that I knew about and that I hadn’t read any of them in books at all. “Wait… Momma knew that word?”</p>
<p>He slowly nodded. “…There were… many things she knew about… and I guess you do as well… I don’t know what that means, or how the future is going to be for you, but… I’m sure you were born to do great things. Whoever you were before, she is still you… but you are also Lilah. You are a half-human and a half-elf… you are born and raised into nobility… and you are also my daughter.”</p>
<p>I sniffled and I carefully wiped my tears. “Don’t make me cry, Papa.”</p>
<p>He chuckled as he took my drawing journal, setting it aside before he pulled me into an embrace. We shared this loving moment before there was a knock on the door.</p>
<p>“Oh, come now, Max,” Aunt Eve chided. “It’s just her birthday. It’s not like you’re giving her away tonight.”</p>
<p>Papa gave her a look. “It wasn’t about that, but we were having a father and daughter moment here.”</p>
<p>“You can do that later,” she said. “The guests are waiting for the star of the show!”</p>
<p>I giggled hysterically before I leaned in to give my father a quick peck on the cheek. “Okay! Papa, let’s go!”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>
  <em>“…You’re broken down and… tired…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“…Of living life on a merry go round…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And you can't find the fighter…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And move…mountains”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We gonna walk it out…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And move… mountains…”</em>
</p>
<p>The audience fell silent, caught in a spell, as my father continued plucking only the strings, to play the notes before he started to strum the chords, building to an uplifting chorus. I took a deep breath and sang.</p>
<p>“<em>And I'll rise up. I'll rise like the day! I'll rise up! I'll rise unafraid. I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again! And I'll rise up high like the waves! I'll rise up in spite of the ache! I'll rise up, and I'll do it a thousand times again!</em>”</p>
<p>
  <em>“For you…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“For you…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“For you…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“For you…”</em>
</p>
<p>The song ended as beautifully as I could muster it, hoping that it would be an outstanding performance, and to my relief, the burst of applause was enough to know. I did a curtsy, bowing before stepping off the stage.</p>
<p>It was no surprise that plenty of people would rush over to say how great I was, and instantly I felt embarrassed and a bit guilty. Despite saying that I wasn’t the creator of the song, I didn’t have the bard in mind who had written this beautiful, inspiring song. Still, they very much enjoyed it.</p>
<p>“Lilah, you were amazing!” Francine said as she approached me.</p>
<p>“Ohh I’m just glad it wasn’t terrible,” I said uncomfortably.</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me? Since when were you ever terrible at something?” Kyle asked. He’s two years younger than me, but he was getting too tall for an eight-year-old.</p>
<p>“Indeed. You’re as marvelous as ever,” Inez Maldwynne, daughter of the ruling Teyrn Maldwynne of Ostwick, said as she approached me in a dashing nobleman’s clothing.</p>
<p>It was a year ago when we had a meaningful conversation about being forced to marry someone else in terms of political advantage, instead of love. She had changed since then, taking on a masculine identity, but still referring to herself as female. Simply put, she’s a cross-dresser, and I’m quite a fan of hers. She’s absolutely gorgeous in men’s clothing and acting the identity of a man.</p>
<p>Inez reached out, taking my hand and kissing the knuckles.</p>
<p>I couldn’t help but blush and giggle. “Oh, my goodness, Inez, you’re as charming as ever.”</p>
<p>“Not as much as you—oh!” She was bumped to the side when Kyle stepped right in, throwing her a glare, and their unusual behavior made me laugh. Honestly. What are they doing?</p>
<p>“Would you care to dance with me first, My Lady Lilah?” He asked, holding my hand as he gestured to the bare dance floor.</p>
<p>“Well--”</p>
<p>Before I could respond, Francine had pulled me away from Kyle. “Oh later! Why don’t we go look at some knights, Lilah?”</p>
<p>“Knights? There are knights at my ball?” I asked, excitedly. What? I can be a girly girl too.</p>
<p>Both Kyle and Inez were wearing sour looks. I wonder why they weren’t so excited as me and Francine over knights. Strong…handsome… valiant knights—I mean, cliché generic characters are pretty romantic, y’know? It’s not illegal to enjoy the <em>classics!</em></p>
<p>She pointed at a direction, and I saw Uncle Donnic with two youthful recruits, probably in their late teens, and then another older male—older than Donnic, and I could tell that was probably the Knight Templar Commander, Keaton Bowen, Grandpa Patriarch’s oldest brother.</p>
<p>“They look a little too old, Francine,” Inez scolded her.</p>
<p>“I meant the two recruits,” Francine corrected. “What do you think, Lilah?”</p>
<p>“Hmm, not bad, I suppose.” I appraised the young men’s attractive levels, even though I was only a ten-year-old. “Still, Inez is right. They’re <em>way</em> too old.”</p>
<p>Kyle chortled. “See? Besides, they wouldn’t be interested in a brat like you,” he told off Francine.</p>
<p>Francine gawked at me. “Excuse me!”</p>
<p>These three monkeys are my childhood friends, and they are the dearest to me. Maybe a ball wasn’t so bad every year, and maybe I could also have them join some family games. Maybe they would like that too…</p>
<p>Hm? Where’s Papa?</p>
<p>“Begone! You are not welcomed here!”</p>
<p>A commotion was happening and quickly I went to the disturbance that was coming from the entrance. It also caught the guests’ attention and the music briefly stopped. There, at the foyer, Papa, Aunt Eve, and Dada had gathered, facing off four other uninvited strange men in dark robes, though I could see they had armor underneath those hoods.</p>
<p>“I will not ask you again. <em>Leave</em>,” Lord Bann Trevelyan ordered. I had never seen Dada so resolute, nor speak words with such conviction.</p>
<p>“Oh, come now,” A thick-Antivan accent spoke from the leader of this villainous band. “We just want to talk to your son. It’s been years after all… Crows don’t leave their prey behind like that.”</p>
<p>Crow… My eyes widened. My father was a <em>Crow?</em></p>
<p>Then suddenly, I was grabbed without warning and I felt something sharp to my neck.</p>
<p>“LILAH!” I heard Francine screaming my name, but with the harsh movement, I couldn’t speak, nor could I reach for anything to save myself.</p>
<p>Before I knew it, I was on the other side of the room, closer to the <em>Crows</em> with a sharp dagger to my neck and a rough arm clamped down on my waist. I looked up, and I saw my family looking back at me with horrified expressions.</p>
<p>“Lilah!!” Nana cried out.</p>
<p>“LET HER GO!” Papa snarled as paternal rage graced his features.</p>
<p>Uncle Donnic rushed in with the rest of the Templar Knights. He drew out his blade, ready to strike.</p>
<p>“Not so fast, Templar! Unless you want this little girl’s head to be lopped off!!” The Crow leader shouted.</p>
<p>Uncle Donnic froze and he glanced right at me, also horrified to see that I was being held hostage by the Crows.</p>
<p>Shaking and terrified, I screamed, “I-IT’S OKAY! I-I’m OKAY!”</p>
<p>My words surprised them all.</p>
<p>Papa was all the more scared. “L-Lilah---”</p>
<p>“<em>I’m alright!!</em> Get them, Uncle Donnic!!! <em>Beat them up!!</em>” I shouted, encouraging the strife. The knife was pulled away from me as the attacking hand now grabbed my hair harshly. He set me down on my feet, wrapping the offending tattoo arm on my neck.</p>
<p>“Shut it!” He shouted.</p>
<p>That’s all that I needed. To get the blade away from my neck. Without any hesitation, I wriggled out of his grasp enough for me to latch my sharp little teeth on his skin and bit down with all my might.</p>
<p>My captive hollered out in agony as he now tried to pry me off of his arm.</p>
<p>Then chaos erupted.</p>
<p>Papa made his move and so did Uncle Donnic as they rushed at the Crows. Aunt Eve came right for me and threw her fist right at the guy’s face, knocking him down. She snatched me out of his arms and the guy raised his blade to slash. However, I saw him and kicked him, my pointy sharp slipper hit his throat and he dropped his knife. Aunt Eve picked it right up and stabbed it right onto his eye.</p>
<p>Blood squirted out and he yelled more in agony grabbing at his face.</p>
<p>It didn’t help as I let out a scream of fright. I had never seen anything so grotesque in life---save for the bandits that Papa killed when I was younger—but I was never up close and personal to real-life gore.</p>
<p>Aunt Eve grabbed me and pulled me away to safety.</p>
<p>Looking back, I watched to see my father fighting ruthlessly against those Crows. The party guests were running to the back, or they were taking cover behind chairs and tables. A couple of them—those from the Vaughn family had rushed to join in the fight. They were killing the crows easily.</p>
<p>“Father!!” Donnic yelled out and my eyes darted to the center of the room where Dada had fallen, stabbed by the Crow Leader.</p>
<p>“<em>DADA!</em>” I screamed.</p>
<p>Papa rushed right over and kicked the man down. He then knelt down, taking something out from his pocket—a vial. He held Dada in his arms and started forcing him to drink the vial. Meanwhile, the Crow leader was getting up again and Uncle wouldn't be able to stop him in time.</p>
<p>I escaped from my Aunt’s grasps and bolted over to my father.</p>
<p>“LILAH!” she called, but I ignored.</p>
<p>At the time, I hadn’t realized it, but the tiny beads on my bracelet started to glow brightly. I wasn’t sure what made it glow, either because of this stressful situation or that it was the time that my magic was awakening. Either way, its power was what I needed at the time to save my family.</p>
<p>The Crow leader raised his blade.</p>
<p>I reached my hand out, and a beautiful siren voice sang in my head…</p>
<p>And then a cacophony of ice and snow fluttered out from my hands <em>magically</em> into a storming blizzard that brought about a super freeze that crystallized the air and the attacking Crow Leader. His eyes widened and frozen forever in fear as he was completely covered in crystallized frost.</p>
<p>I gasped, panting. My breath visible in the freezing air, though impossibly realistic in the mid-spring of 34 Dragon.</p>
<p>It took me a few more seconds to realize what I had just done. Glancing around the room, each and every person had their jaws drop. They all stared at me with horrified gawking expressions. Uncle Donnic especially… he looked like he lost a loved one.</p>
<p>“…Lilah…” Papa called out to me, but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t…</p>
<p>I swallowed.</p>
<p>§</p>
<p>Author’s Notes</p>
<p>Were you surprised too? I sure was. O.O Didn’t plan on having her a mage, but hey that happened.</p>
<p>Be sure to listen to “The World if Unravelling” by MILCK. Matches this scene perfectly.</p>
<p>Thank you!</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Rockabye Baby</h2></a>
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<p>I was shaking where I was standing, frozen just like the Crow-man in ice.</p>
<p>“Why are you all just standing around?”  The Knight Commander of the Templar Order, Keaton Bowen, demanded when he saw no one made a move against me.  “Arrest that <em>mage!</em>”</p>
<p>Before I knew, I was wrapped around in father’s arm while his hand held a dagger up.  The four templars that had joined in the fight against the crow now had their blades pointed at us, except for one.</p>
<p>“Lilah, it’s going to be okay…” Uncle Donnic said with a trembling voice, as his shoulders were shaking.  The sword seemed too heavy for him to lift.  “Give her to me, Max.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em>not</em> letting her go,” Papa snarled, holding me closer.  “<em>Not</em> again.”</p>
<p>“<em>Max!!</em>”  Donnic snarled.  “Don’t do this!  Lilah has to learn to control her magic in the safest place that is the <em>Circle</em>.  Please, you have to listen to me, brother!”</p>
<p>As they argued, I remained still as a doe facing headlights.  I had just used magic in front of templars to save Dada and Papa’s lives.  Did I regret it?  No, but… now we have a very big problem.</p>
<p>My father was ready to kill anyone who’d dare try to take me away.</p>
<p>I was proven right when one recruit charged at my father.</p>
<p>“No! Stop!!”  Donnic yelled out, but it was too late.</p>
<p>The Templar charged with his shield and Papa sidestepped out of the way.  At that moment, the Templar reached out for me with his free hand.  His hand was very close to grabbing the scruff of my dress, but my father’s armed hand was faster, swiping across the templar’s face, cutting deep to his left eye.</p>
<p>“<em>Argh!!</em>”  The templar fell, clutching to his face.</p>
<p>“Max, stop!  PLEASE!!”  Auntie was screaming.  She and Nana holding on to each other, torn from this tragedy unfolding before them.  I knew why they weren’t getting involved, and I didn’t blame them.  The Chantry calls for every mage to be locked away in a Circle.</p>
<p>Such is the fate that awaits every mage.</p>
<p>The second recruit charged this time, being more mindful against my father.  Even with me in his arm, he fared better and easily clipped the recruit at the neck, blood spurting.</p>
<p>At this rate, my father will be charged for murder.</p>
<p>“P-papa…!”  I tried to yell, but it came out as a whisper.</p>
<p>He only held me closer, whispering to me.  “Close your eyes, <em>Cara Mia</em>.”</p>
<p>Shaking, I did as he was told, covering my face on his chest, staining his dress shirt with my tears.</p>
<p>“Max, drop your weapon!!”  Uncle Donnic shouted.  “Do not make me do this!!”</p>
<p>“Knight Captain Donnic, it is obvious words are not enough to dissuade this maniac,” Knight Commander Bowen said.  “He may be your brother, but he is committing a grave crime against the Chantry and all of Ostwick for harboring an abomination!”</p>
<p>Abomination.</p>
<p>I clutched my arms tightly around father’s neck, shaking.  No.  No, I didn’t want to go to the Circle.  I didn’t want to leave my family and never see them again.  I didn’t want to look at Uncle Donnic as my warden for the rest of my life.</p>
<p>Why now?</p>
<p>Why now of all times did I have to be a mage?</p>
<p>Too cowardly of me to face this misfortune I befell upon my family, I kept my eyes closed.  I felt father moved around like an acrobat dancing in a battle.  He was up against two templars after all, and my faith of him winning was close to zero as I thought to myself… how was he going to get out of here?  Where would he even take us?  We’ll be on the run for the rest of our lives, never returning home.</p>
<p>And for that to happen, Papa will have to kill…</p>
<p>When I opened my eyes, I saw father just in time to swipe his dagger across the Knight Commander’s face, scarring his nose.  Then my eyes wandered over to uncle, and he too was bleeding everywhere, even though he was wearing armor.</p>
<p>Oh… that’s not all his blood.</p>
<p>Looking at Papa, I saw his face turning pale and I noticed the blood dripping from his shirt, but what scared me the most were his eyes.  His verdant green eyes have turned completely cold and void of emotion, and he was aiming that murderous gaze right at his brother.</p>
<p>Papa leaped right at Donnic, the blade heading straight for his neck.</p>
<p>And I screamed, “<em>No!  Papa!</em>”</p>
<p>Sparks flew out of me and in that instant, I shut a chain of lightning starting on my father before it struck Uncle Donnic as well.</p>
<p>Papa dropped with heavy thud to the ground, static electricity running through his clothing.  Same with Uncle Donnic, but he fell on his knees as his armor repelled half the damage that would hurt him.</p>
<p>I was in shock.  What did I…do?  Papa was staring straight at me with fear in his eyes.</p>
<p>I couldn’t believe… I hurt my dad.</p>
<p>Before I could even apologize, someone grabbed a fistful of my hair.  I squealed out of pain as I was lifted off the ground by my hair before thrown across the floor.</p>
<p>“Commander…!”  I heard Uncle Donnic protest and when I lifted my head, I saw the Commander punched him across the face.  Uncle Donnic stayed on his knees, not letting the impact throw him to the ground.</p>
<p>“You disappoint me, Knight Captain Donnic,” that cruel ominous voice spoke.  “You’ve been hiding a mage in your family all this time.”</p>
<p>“S-She wasn’t a mage…!!”  Donnic protested as he stood up, using his tower shield to keep himself steady.  “This is the first I’ve seen her do magic, or even felt magic from her!”</p>
<p>“Do you expect me to believe that a fledgling like her can do <em>this</em> much damage?”  He asked.  His voice raising with anger.  “Look how that man is still in ice!  And how the lightning harmed you when it should have repelled it!”</p>
<p>Then his cruel gaze fell on me, and chills ran down my spine as he looked at me like I was a pest that needed to be exterminated.</p>
<p>No… he already labelled me as an abomination.</p>
<p>Then shamefully, I gazed at my Papa for help, thinking he’ll get back up.  To my despair, he was still down.  His body was shaking all over as he trying hard to move his body.  Did I hurt him?  What am I talking about?  <em>I</em> did that to him.</p>
<p>I hurt him… when he was only trying to protect me… I hurt him.</p>
<p>The heavy footsteps of the Knight Commander shook me to the core as he was now approaching dragging his blade across the floor.  For once in my life, I realized that no one was coming to rescue me.  I was going to die.  I was going to die <em>again</em>.</p>
<p>I don’t want to die.</p>
<p>Shutting my eyes tight, I curled up, waiting for the heavy blade to strike me down for the worthless daughter I was.  For being unfortunately with magic.</p>
<p>“What do you think you all are doing?”  The gravely angry voice demanded.</p>
<p>When I opened my eyes again, I was surrounded by my family, my closest friends, and even the servants of the house.  They had gathered around me, holding their arms out and open, acting as shields.  It didn’t matter how sick Dada look.  It didn’t matter how frightened Nana was.  And it didn’t matter how much Auntie was going to tarnish the family name.  Same for Inez, Francine, and Kyle.  They were standing there in front of me.</p>
<p>
  <em>I… I don’t understand…</em>
</p>
<p>The Knight Commander glowered at me.  “Is this <em>your</em> doing?”</p>
<p>“That’s enough, brother.”  Patriarch Bowen said then he turned to me and held his hand out.  “…Come on, Lilah.  I’ll come with you.”</p>
<p>I wanted to take his hand, but I was still shaking.  He seemed to notice because he knelt down and gathered me in his arms.  He then walked me over to the cruel man that threw me by the tufts of my hair.  Of course, I can only shrink further to Grandpa Patriarch’s arms.</p>
<p>The Cruel man sneered at his brother.  “<em>That</em> is an abomination that you’re holding.”</p>
<p>“<em>This</em> is a young noble girl who just had her debut today,” Grandpa Patriarch said.  “She just turned 10-years-old.  You would murder a child in cold blood?”</p>
<p>“Like I said, that is not child.”</p>
<p>“Then you are blind.  Perhaps I should strip you of your command, Keaton,” Grandpa Patriarch threatened.  “Unless you have proof that a demon is possessing this child, you are not allowed to kill her.  A templar isn’t a Mage-killer.  They are keeper of the peace between magic and the norm.  I’ve told you this before Keaton, do not let fear blind you from seeing the innocence.”</p>
<p>The Commander scoffed but soon he sheathed his blade.  “…Get the girl, Knight Captain Donnic.  We are leaving.  Now.”</p>
<p>“…L…i…L..a…h…”</p>
<p>I heard Papa calling my name, but I couldn’t look at him.  I was too scared and ashamed to face him.</p>
<p>Uncle Donnic, with his sword sheathed and shield hanging on his back, approached me and carefully took me away from Grandpa Patriarch.</p>
<p>“I have you, Lilah,” Uncle said to me, holding me close and I buried my face on his cold armor, just wanting this nightmare to end.</p>
<p>“Li…Lah…!!”  Father struggled to call for me again.</p>
<p>“Max… I’m sorry.”  Uncle Donnic said under his breath, and soon, we were moving.  The armor jostled at every step he took, before more noise joined him at the side, the wounded recruits following as they limp.</p>
<p>“<em>…LILAH!!</em>”</p>
<p>I heard him scream for me, and I could only bite down on my lip harder as the tears wouldn’t stop falling.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…!</em>
</p>
<p>I quietly sobbed in Uncle Donnic’s arms as we left the Trevelyan estate on the backs of horses that terrible, <em>terrible </em>night.</p>
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    <span>A/N: This is how I imagine Lilah is, though she looks quite Dalish here, dressed for the winter. :3</span>
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    <span>Disclaimer:  I do not own the images compiled on this art.</span>
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